


Overexposure

by Carol989



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Jack as a not shitty dad, Jack has problems, Jealousy, M/M, Mentions of past child abuse, Poster-boy Rhys, Relationship Problems, Rhys is trying, Rimming, Sexting, Slow Burn, Those idiots do everything wrong, blowjob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 17:46:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 48,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6668296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carol989/pseuds/Carol989
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys meets John on an anonymous texting app after a failed holiday with his family. He is drunk, everything sucks and his bank account is dryer than his sex life. </p>
<p>Rhys meets Handsome Jack while applying for a second job as Hyperion's new poster-boy. He is sleepy, he may have a crush and is not ready to the sudden interest Jack takes on him. Not that he is complaining. Not yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Year

Vaughn once said Rhys was very fond of bad life choices. Alright, it was more along the lines of _dude, of all your shitty decisions this is_ _like_ _the worst and it's a long lis_ t – it was about him buying five boxes of chicken nuggets without cheese, _the cheesy ones were in promotion, bro, what the hell._

Vaughn had also sighed when Rhys told him about his holiday's plans.

Turns out his best friend was right. The cheesy chicken nuggets were better and Rhys loved fucking up his life. Exhibit A: Rhys deciding it would be a great idea to visit his family on the New Year, even after Christmas' fiasco. Exhibit B: Rhys sitting on a taxi at one AM, drunk out of his mind.

His skin buzzed and the yellow lights made him pleasurably dizzy. Still, frustration bubbled on his chest, almost coming out in a laugh. His family's words were lingering on his ears, but at least he was wasted enough to not feel like a dumbass for visiting them when he knew better.

Instead, it was replaced by all his other problems. Alcohol had his special effect on New Year, it seems. Rhys inclined his head forward, wanting nothing more than fall asleep but his mind was raging with the rent is late we don't have enough money stupid cuts I need that promotion how am I gonna get it my arm is failing Vaughn and me are-

“You are not going to puke are you?” the driver inquired, looking from the rearview mirror.

“'m fine.”

Rhys struggled to get his phone out, needing some distraction. His fingers stilled over the screen. He couldn't call Vaughn – he was not going to shit on his night like that. Nor Fiona or Sasha. And Yvette was probably on a worse state than him at the company party.

Rhys should've really accepted her invitation.

But noooooooo. Let's be an idiot.

Another wave of nausea hit him and Rhys closed his eyes for a moment. Alongside it came a dumb idea, a nice way to end his dumb night. There was this new, stupid app that let you talk with strangers with complete anonymity, Txting. Nothing exciting or innovative really, but acquired some success. None of his friends paid mind to it, claiming it was just another way to send and receive unwanted dick pics.

Rhys agreed, but... he was twenty six, mad and drunk on the first day of the year so why the hell not. Time to dump your shit on strangers and regret in the morning.

An emotional one night stand.

He chuckled while choosing an username he thought very fancy: Company Man. Tagged his profile as 'drunk' and hit it off.

As expected the first dozens of people were either assholes, boring or horny guys trying to sex him up in the most unsexy way possible. Really, they made it almost an art form. A couple of better conversations surfaced too but they all ended in either option one or two.

A complete waste of time that was doing more than enough to keep him from puking on the nice driver – who, by the way, picked him from freezing on the streets while talking to a lamppost. Rhys was about to tell another perv to fuck off – seriously, John69? – but the guy was faster:

> _< u ask me asl or whatver the fuck and i swear 2 god_

Rhys smiled, he could roll with that.

> > not gunna
> 
> > pls dont send a dic pick tehn
> 
> _< only if u ask nicely cupcake ;)_

Cupcake. Well, he lasted longer than the rest, Rhys was going to end the conversation when another message arrived:

> _< gzus u spell like CRAP_
> 
> > like yur any better
> 
> _< how hammered r u_

He had a hard time typing, the cold and drinks making his flesh hand sluggish.

> > not enough
> 
> > ok mybe enough
> 
> > laik a taxy driver rescued me
> 
> > i think i love him
> 
> _< u r in for the hangover of a LIFE_
> 
> _< im too_

Rhys was not one to initiate conversations, or keep then going with strangers online. But the alcohol loosened him enough to spill whatever stupid shit appeared on his mind.

> > happy new year btw
> 
> _< going to take another shot to that_
> 
> _< to another horrible year_
> 
> > yay
> 
> _< what u doing here drunk on new year? _
> 
> _< i mean srsly loser dont u have parties to go or ppl to bang_

That would be more offending if he was sober, but Rhys still frowned.

> > you r here too asshole
> 
> _< yeh whatver but i COULD be doing something else _
> 
> _< or someone _

Jesus, what a dickbag. Shows a lot how he was still the most amusing people Rhys chatted with on the last twenty four hours.

> _< so? gonna talk or no_
> 
> > fcked up holiday
> 
> > family suxs and you
> 
> _< same boat as u cupacke_
> 
> > dont cal me dat
> 
> _< its better than company man _
> 
> _< i mean really? nerd _
> 
> _>_ says john69 king of frat boys
> 
> _< its overlord of frat boys to u_

Rhys was so focused on the conversation he didn't notice the taxi had stopped until the driver called him. He paid the guy more than usual because he was a damn hero and Rhys had manners.

The driver wasn't very convinced of his mental state as Rhys stumbled out but he arrived at the door and that's what matters. Not his fault his legs were suddenly so heavy. He didn't remember getting into the elevator or opening his apartment's door and if he scared any neighbors they would forgive him.

Not Mrs. Johnson though. She sucked.

Rhys barely finished taking his shoes off before falling on the bed, the cheap mattress feeling like a cloud against his back. His world was spinning slowly and he raised the robotic hand, the delayed movements fascinating to his drunk mind. On a normal day, it was driving him mad.

Maybe he should sell his arm. If he found someone willing to buy an outdated cybernetic he and Vaughn could pay some months of rent again. Rhys shivered at the thought of feeling his shoulder empty for years until he managed to save enough to buy a new one.

Yeah, idea discarded.

He was almost falling asleep when he noticed his pocket's vibrations. Alcohol was truly a blessing because Rhys wouldn't remember dropping the phone on his face two times while trying to unlock the screen.

> _< when i rule the freaking world im gonna ban families_
> 
> _< srsly _
> 
> _< what did urs do to?_
> 
> _< damn dont leave me hanging im bored_

Rhys snorted and decided to reply:

> > just basic family stuff
> 
> > lik shitting on all of your life choces
> 
> > and the not choices too just cuz
> 
> _< there u r_

He was stupidly happy that the stranger wasn't gone. Rhys needed to up his life from 'pathetic' to 'sad but understandable' that year.

> _< wow i gotchu_
> 
> > yeah but it was fr the last time tho
> 
> _< what didu do? throw a fit? broke shit?_
> 
> > i told them to fuck off and stole a bottle of champagnge
> 
> > dont think theyll invite me anymor
> 
> _< hahahaha holy crap kid :D_
> 
> _< good one respect _
> 
> _< wish i could see their fucking faces _

There had been a lot of impressive faces, Rhys would have to give John that. They ranged from anger to confusion on his older relatives and overjoyed shock on the young ones. He knew himself enough to know he wouldn't regret that later, at least. Even Vaughn would say he took too long to do it.

> > how abt u?

The answer was taking long Rhys was ready to be a needy little shit and pester the man – what was dignity?

> _< ex wife is an asshole_
> 
> _< wish i could steal HER champagne cuz telling her off doesnt seem 2 be enough _
> 
> > good to knw we r both having fun
> 
> > gotta love holidays
> 
> _< that u do, i'll drink to that_
> 
> > u r going to pass out
> 
> _< im not a frekin light weight like u that gets wasted with champagne _
> 
> > ok 1 of all the stuff was strong
> 
> _< I can give u much stronger cupcake_

Rhys should've rolled his eyes and blocked the guy. Yet... he was at the bottom and surely virtual sex with a stranger wouldn't take him any lower. He considered it for a moment, before snickering and saying screw it. Crappy New Year or not, he wouldn't go to sleep without an orgasm.

> > show me thn
> 
> _< oooooh bby u ARE a nice little thing _
> 
> _< up to have some fun? ;)_

An insignificant part of Rhys mind whispered he would regret it in the morning. The confused, larger one screamed for him to take off his pants.

> > only if u stp with the emojs
> 
> _< then u gotta write better too cupcake cuz thats hurting my eyes_
> 
> _< im not very patient tonight so go on touch yourself _

Rhys was hard in no time, stroking himself quickly not caring at all to imagine something. John sent him a small litany of dirty nothings and that made him worked up enough to start dripping. Which was, without a doubt, mostly thanks to the alcohol on his veins since he could barely read on his rush.

Good thing it was obvious John was in a hurry too.

> _< just by the way you sound I know youd let me fuck you silly_
> 
> _< open up under me taking it all pretty wouldnt you bby?_

Rhys was not aware of a single thing he wrote back, breathlessly chuckling to the ceiling, hunting down his own dizzy pleasure. There were no pictures, no 'what are you wearing', no demands. It was a dumb paired up work both of them needed to finish that hellish night. Like a messy handjob in the dark, where the objective is to get it over with and follow with their lives.

Rhys had a lazy, lunatic smile on his face while he came. Waves of satisfaction finally numbing his frustration – when he remembered the now dirty shirt was a gift from his aunt it intensified. He may have laughed, he wasn't certain. Rhys was not even sure he thanked the stranger or something as he closed his eyes, thick on afterglow.

Cellphone on his chest and cybernetic arm still on, he fell asleep. A small interlude of peace before a bitch of a morning.

 

* * *

 

 

Handsome Jack wasn't called that just to put fear into the heart of his enemies and give his fans hard ons, that was for sure. But apparently it wasn't good enough for a certain Marketing and Propaganda department.

“What?” he repeated himself, already feeling the first stings of a headache. Was it possible to get hangover two days later?

Moxxi, the head of said ungrateful department, gave him an exasperated look, “Do you want me to repeat a specific part or to just coddle your ego?”

Jack wanted to be left alone actually. He didn't particularly care that Maliwan and Jakobs were getting more interns than they that summer. And that, apparently, they needed a new face for Hyperion apart from his since Jack was, as Moxxi put, “intimidating and overused.” He cared that people kept bringing small problems to him like a bunch of stumbling children.

Yet he couldn't just threaten and fire every single stupid person that stepped into his office, or Helios would be an empty building in a week. Doesn't mean he couldn't be an asshole.

“I want you to repeat why the hell are you bothering _me –_ you know, the CEO – with this crap? Is your department so useless you can't even pick a model alone?” he snapped, relishing on the way Mox's lip twitched.

“ _Because_ ,” she crossed her arms, “last time we did it, you fired the model and a third of my staff. According to you, a spineless, oatmeal looking dumbass would only be the face of Hyperion when you were seven feet under. Also we plan to use an employee this time, shows the company better.”

Jack analyzed Mox's face, he knew her too well to recognize when she was hiding something. And she wasn't even trying, that small grin showing an idea he wouldn't enjoy.

“Spit it out, Mox.”

“There will be shots of you two together. The big, scary president of Hyperion with one of his working bees – make you look a little human for a change. You should try, you know, being a person.”

Any other day, Jack would've sent her away laughing because, seriously, he wasting his time on stupid advertising photoshoots with a nobody? Yeah, right. But that was not good day, he was tired, ready to shot something, take the mask off and crash on his couch. Well, good for _her_.

“Tell me you came here knowing what kind of worker you want or I swear to God,” Jack groaned.

“I'll finish the list today,” Mox's smile grew, “Just the prettiest, youngest dummies. Since they are going to be the next walking brand, most of them have Hyperion cybernetics, accessories and so on. Basically we'll only make their propaganda official now,” she shrugged.

“Yeah, yadda yadda, good for you. Send it to Meg and piss off.”

“You are specially pissy today, Jack. Didn't get lucky on the holidays?”

“That's cute, balloon tits, makes you sound like you miss the luxury package. Can't blame you, really.”

“I'll take it as a no. You should get laid, or a hobby.”

“You should,” Jack waved her away, “Or you want the security to come and grope you? Your tenth husband not giving enough?”

Mox was not fazed “I need your choice until Friday.”

Jack didn't even watch her ass as usual, too busy lowering his head. He massaged his temples, the clasps starting to ache promising a long migraine. The fact that Angel wouldn't be back for one day more made him both thankful and sourer.

Way sourer.

None of this would be happening if his ex had let Angel spend New Year with him as the freaking _contract_ said. If Jack didn't know this would break Angel's heart he would be suing that woman's ass to her next life for traveling with his baby girl without saying a word. He could imagine the kind of crap that bitch was spilling on his daughter with her extra days.

“Meg,” Jack pressed the intercom, trying not to sound like he was about to wreck the entire office, “What's next today?”

“You have a meeting with Engineering in twenty minutes and one with the board right after, sir. You already rescheduled them three times.”

Jack cursed under his breath and finished the call without another word. He could handle the annoying, nervous mumbling of the Engineering but the board meetings lasted, at least, three hours. On a very good day. A day where Jack was ready to put up with those old men's bullshit. A day where nobody got shot and/or punched.

He picked his ECHO and started to shuffle through it, needing to water his irritation down. Jack stopped at an unfamiliar app and took a second to remember his drunk talk with the stranger two days before. What was his name? Street dude? Something man- Company man, oh, yeah. What a dumbass.

He reread their messages, eyebrows rising at the things he didn't remember writing. At all. Jack whistled at a particular nasty message the guy sent. He sure knew how to have an interesting night even drinking all alone.

Seeing Jack was this close of playing shooting target with his wall and for some reason employees got 'nervous' and 'uncomfortable' with gun sounds at the office – which made he wonder if those idiots knew where they worked – he decided to hit the guy. His profile was still active and answers or not, Jack liked to talk.

> _<_ _i_ _m_ _surrounded by dumbasses_

He sent it, already feeling a little better for venting without the whole disgusting emotional bonding of it. Ugh. Jack had forgot about it five minutes later when his ECHO beeped:

> > you tell me
> 
> > if I hear my coworker voice one more time i'll drill my ears

Jack huffed, surprised. Nothing better than to talk with people stressed like you.

> _< look whos still around _
> 
> _<_ _sup_ _cupcake :)_
> 
> > honestly I thought you had died
> 
> > and stop calling me cupcake
> 
> _< _ _nope_
> 
> _< u even spell like a human being now!_
> 
> > can't say the same about you

Charming. Jack liked that.

> > are you still drunk?
> 
> _< _ _sadly not_
> 
> _< 1 to 'wish could go back in time and kill myself' how bad was ur hangover_
> 
> _> _ 12
> 
> _< best type _
> 
> > I'll never drink again
> 
> _< cmon dont be a party pooper u didnt even do anything THAT bad _
> 
> _> _ our chat history disagrees

Jack spun his chair around, grinning. Oh, boy, the guy was _shy_. He looked at the clock, yeah, worst case scenario Engineering could wait for him a bit.

> _< but we didnt even had fun cupcake ;) _
> 
> _< not to be cliché or anything but u any cute? _
> 
> _> _ seriously?
> 
> _< its a yes or no question_ _dont get all humble on me_

His leg bounced up and down, waiting for an answer. Something told him the kid wouldn't back down and Jack was proven right when the new message arrived:

> > yes
> 
> _< knew it you sound all fussy and pretty _
> 
> > no I don't
> 
> _< u totally do bet u spend hours in front of the mirror every morning_
> 
> > there is nothing wrong in taking care of yourself!
> 
> _< wouldnt know, im naturally gifted _
> 
> > you are naturally a jackass

Jack _really_ liked them with some fire – made it better to break later. He ran his hand up and down the seam of his pants, the city staring at him through the big windows.

> _< jackass can give you a nice time again if u let him ;)_
> 
> > dude, I'm at work what the hell
> 
> _< live a litte stick it up to your asshole coworkers_

Jack could practically smell his apprehension. Cupcake – way better name than Company Man– would probably be side eyeing his ECHO, wallowing in shame without the alcohol to spur him further. Good thing Jack knew how to do it.

> _< im doing this with or without you_
> 
> _< lets see you are a cute one, and shy, your type always brush kinky crap off in front of other ppl_
> 
> _< but youd let me bend you over my desk in a sec woudnt you cupcake?_

The kid was reading the messages and he knew how to stop them. Jack couldn't contain his amusement, cock getting half hard already just from annoying him. Engineering would definitely wait.

> _< im totally right aint I? _
> 
> _< youd take it good if I made you, ass in the air and eager for it _
> 
> _< bet you are even getting hard thinking abt it_
> 
> _>_ shut up
> 
> _< hooooly crap im RIGHT_
> 
> _< thats nasty cupcake, during work! :o _
> 
> > no you are not, I'm blocking you
> 
> _< do it_

Jack waited, unbuttoning his pants and letting his now full erection pop free. A minute, two, passed and nothing. Jack was sure he got harder from winning.

> _< go to the bathroom, hope your not a screamer_
> 
> > I hate you so much
> 
> _< locked the door?_
> 
> > yes
> 
> _< since _ _yo_ _u_ _are_ _such a nice boy, go on, touch urself_
> 
> > fuck you
> 
> _< language_

He squeezed his base. The effect that talk was having on Jack would be embarrassing if he wasn't enjoying himself so much. Also, it may or may not have been a while since his last time – it was not easy running a house and a company.

Never stopped Jack from knowing exactly what he wanted though.

> _< cupcake if you were here youd be in your knees so fast _
> 
> _< id wreck your mouth _
> 
> > aren't you overconfident?

What a mouthy little shit, Jack would love to stuff it full.

He angled his ECHO and took a picture of his cock, standing tall and proud from his jeans, a bead of precome shinning on the head. Jack sent it knowing it was a risky move but, hey, at least his dick pics were classy. He added some words just so it would be less intimidating to the kid:

> _< i know what im packing ;)_

Jack observed the stranger type and delete over and over again. Moxxi was wrong, his ego didn't need coddling, it came naturally. He almost laughed when the only answer was:

> > well

His smile dropped with the following:

> > still, my mouth would wreck you

Jack's cock twitched in interest. That was unexpected. Cupcake was coming out of his shell.

> _< now who is overconfident_
> 
> > I'm just saying I know what I am doing

When the picture came, Jack almost did too. He cursed under his breath, it was not even something awfully interesting like a dick, an ass or even boobs. It was a close in of a pinky, wet mouth, the tongue playing with a couple of fingers. The lips were pouty with a deep cupid's bow and Jack felt a little weak for how turned on he was just from imagining putting his cock on it.

Yep, definitely needed to get laid soon.

The guy's face wasn't visible but Jack could see the deep blush on his cheeks, so he probably wasn't alone on that. He glanced to the clock and sped his movements, heat flowing down his navel.

> _< damn that's a cocksucking mouth cupcake _
> 
> _< more and more you look like the type that could cum from just having my dick down your throat_
> 
> > I could, I really could
> 
> _< I know babe, now youll come from picturing it_

Jack's hips bucked up, the next text hitting him like a damn slap by the sheer sudden of it:

> > picturing what? Wrapping my lips around the head and going all the way down, sucking you up, or from jacking you off while I lick all of it?

Holy crap Jack was a lucky bastard.

> _< not gonna lie, you are pressing my buttons pretty well here _
> 
> _< but id rather hold your hair, keeping you still while I fuck your face_
> 
> > fuck, John somebody almost heard me

Jack let out a heavy breath, the image of the guy resting against a tiny bathroom wall, pants down and jerking himself off was good. But the same guy, biting his cute mouth trying to not make any sound while people worked outside was even better.

He closed his eyes for a moment, thick fingers running up and down putting special attention on the head. Cupcake would really feel good around his cock, spit running down his chin and gagging around it. Fuck, he was going to come.

> _< you close cupcake? _
> 
> _< if not i want you to imagine me cumming deep in your throat, so much you cant swallow it all _
> 
> _< my come painting those red lips making you look like a mess _
> 
> _< like someone screwed your mouth so good you came in your pants like a bitch _
> 
> > I
> 
> > god it would feel so good
> 
> > it feels good now I will

Cupcake was obviously having a hard time typing. Jack was no better, breath coming quick, no resemblance of a rhythm whatsoever anymore. The heat was spreading up his spine and clenching his balls, the pleasure making him wish there really was somebody there on their knees.

With some difficulty, he managed to send:

> _< you can cum cupcake_
> 
> _< just let go and dont let nobody hear you moaning like a whore _
> 
> > wouldnt be with able ur cock in my mouth anyway

That did it.

Jack groaned, head falling back and muscles tightening. His come fell on the floor, smearing his fingers on the process but thankfully not his pants. Jack spent a minute in silence, basking on the way every part of him seemed to finally relax. Not exactly an office quickie, but good enough.

Surprisingly, it wasn't him who broke the virtual silence. Apparently two things could loose that guy's mouth: alcohol and an orgasm.

> > I can't believe I came from that
> 
> > In public
> 
> _< what can i say, i have the magic _
> 
> > you have a dirty mouth
> 
> _< of course I do, Mr. I'll Deepthroat You_
> 
> > stop it

Jack smirked, Cupcake must be blushing, there was no way he could go out without looking like he had some quality time. Oh how Jack wanted to see that. He tucked himself back into his pants, stretching happily.

> _< that was good babe, thanks for the fun time even tho it was mostly me lmao _
> 
> _< have to go to a meeting now, lets do this again ;D_

The stranger said nothing, but Jack congratulated himself when he didn't end the conversation or blocked him. His plan was such a success he managed to go home early without shooting anyone and with an orgasm to score.

He wondered if Mox would consider sexting a hobby.

 


	2. Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let Hyperion's Next Top Model begin

Rhys' only thought when he arrived at the top floor was: I'm going to die. That was repeating on his head since he entered Helios half and hour late and was told Handsome Jack wanted to see him. That's it. That's how he dies, the CEO was having a bad day and choose the late nobody to take out his anger. Rhys only hoped Vaughn would get some kind of insurance for it – work accident? – maybe it'll help pay the bills.

(Really, fuck the landlord for raising rent. And fuck his department for cutting costs. Also, while he was at it, fuck his alarm for failing him.)

Except there were like, eleven other people waiting outside Handsome Jack's office. All of them like Rhys: anxious and sleepy. They were also a little angry at him if the glares were any indication.

“Rhys” Yvette got up from one of the couches, “Do you know what's going on?”

“No? Is this a mass firing or something?” That was his only explanation. 'Something' being mass execution.

Yvette shrugged and he heard a scoff only to see Vasquez, of all people, standing there too. There was some twisted pleasure in knowing if Rhys was going down he would drag that asshole with him.

“We would know already if somebody wasn't late.” Vasquez tried to sound relaxed, but his leg was bouncing.

Rhys ignored him before he could go on – again – about how tight he and Handsome Jack were. How the CEO had mentored him and saw his potential. Load of skag crap.

“It's too early to deal with this,” Rhys ran a hand through his hair, the only part of him that was looking neat after literally jumping of bed, “I need like, a huge cup of coffee. No, two.”

Yvette frowned at the secretary – the woman pointedly ignoring them, on her desk sat a mug filled to the brim with steamy heavenly liquid, “You can try. She says the machine is _broken_ every time someone tries to use it. Not broke enough for her it seems.”

Rhys was going to die without even having coffee first. Great. Said secretary choose that moment to say Handsome Jack would see them now.

The good side? He would see his ultimate celebrity crush before dying.

Honestly, among all the fear it was kind of awesome too. He was finally entering the CEO's office and it was every bit as great he imagined. Almost ridiculously great, Rhys had to admit. Expensive decoration, a wall made of windows and a _lot_ of stairs. It was too big for just one guy, but, well, considering who the guy was...

“Come on, what the hell is this?” the shout teared Rhys away from his day dreams. Handsome Jack himself was there on his desk, looking none too happy and Rhys' breath stopped, “Are you gonna keep pissing your panties or make a damn line?”

They didn't need to be told twice, stumbling to form military line up like were trained for it. Jack climbed down the stairs slowly and Rhys took that time to admire the man. He was bigger than expected from the posters and videos. Large shoulders and hands, all covered in what was an obvious fuck off to the company dress code — white sneakers for god's sake.

He was, no pun indeed, handsome. It was common knowledge, but Rhys was still taken aback by Jack's extremely realistic mask. If it weren't for the clasps and the color difference, he would've never guessed. Rhys was curious if under that his face was just as angular — with that straight nose and sharp eyebrows.

“Tell me you what you are doing here,” Jack demanded.

Some people shifted but nobody said anything.

“Holy crap, I have to do everything myself,” he sighed, “Alright, kiddos, unclench your asses cuz nobody is dying or getting fired today. Unless you do something really stupid, which if you could wait until I finish, I'd be happy. You won't though.”

Rhys could barely suppress his sigh of relief.

“ _Anyway_. Today you are gonna have the opportunity of a life time. One of you boot lickers will be new face for Hyperion propaganda. Uh, half face, you know, cuz I'm sure my mug is at least part of the reason you are working here,” Jack winked at a random guy and chuckled, his serious demeanor changing completely but making him no less scary “Yeah. So anybody here who is camera shy or some crap like that can go right now.”

Nobody moved, Rhys was pretty sure they didn't even breath. He was still trying to understand what was going on, becoming the new face of Hyperion was huge. A hell of a career jump and packing a lot of money too without a doubt. He wanted to look at Yvette and see her reaction only to discover it was Vasquez standing by his side. Ugh.

If Rhys got that job... Jesus, if he got that job bills would be the last of his problems.

“I'm serious, if you pull some 'oh don't look at my face' bull during the photoshoots you'll be leaving with way less dignity and jobs than now.”

There was a beat of silence, then a girl left, head low and muttering apologies. Almost tripping in their hurry, two other people followed as if Jack would shoot them if they weren't fast enough. Rhys couldn't blame them.

“Smart kids,” he snorted, “There is no shame in leaving, just means you are a weak ass bitch. Okay, now stand still and give daddy a smile.”

Jack stared at the remaining eight candidates attentively. Rhys was almost shaking with nerves, cursing himself for missing his alarm. His face was a mess, his socks didn't match and he was pretty sure his shirt was buttoned wrong. Then, Jack's eyes stopped on him and all those thoughts dissolved on a big _SHIT_.

Rhys knew the CEO's eyes were mismatched like his, but in person their intensity was breath taking. He tried to hold his gaze, still when Jack smirked he couldn't help but look down, face red. There goes the new gig.

“You, and you... Scratch that, all four of you can go,” Jack pointed, thankfully, to the opposite side of the line.

There were only him, Yvette, Vasquez and another guy left. Rhys tried to not fidget as Jack walked in front of them like a general. He analyzed the last guy for moment before letting out a strangled noise.

“Is- Is this a freaking Hyperion tattoo?” his laugh was loud, echoing on the office as he doubled over himself. “God dammit, kiddo, get out of here before I take a picture,” The guy blushed, lowering his head in a failed attempt to hide his mark of shame and scurried away, “And go get that removed for god's sake!”

Jack pretended to wipe a tear of his eye. Rhys felt a little self conscious of his own tattoo, it was not Hyperion but still. He was already imagining all the ways Jack was going to humiliate him. And in front of fucking Hugo off all people.

The next was Yvette and Rhys really hoped she would get the job if he didn't make it. Anything better than Assquez.

“Whats your name, pumpkin?”

“Yvette, sir,” she didn't even stutter. Rhys mentally cheered her.

“Cool hairdo, kid. You got the chiq badass style working well for you,” he praised, “And nothing embarrassing on sight, I'm kind of disappointed but we have time.”

Rhys didn't need to see to know Yvette was preening with the compliment. Jack then stopped in front of Vasquez, less than eight feet away from Rhys. He had to make himself not stare like an idiot.

“Fancy chick there has the looks, but what's your game? Hidden cybernetics or dumb tattoo?”

Vasquez stuttered, all his smooth bravado lost and Rhys couldn't hide his snicker. Mentor, yeah, right.

“I- Uh, they are not hidden, Handsome Jack, sir,” the man raised that stupid cybernetic pinky but Jack wasn't paying attention anymore.

“Wallethead!” He snapped his fingers cracking a huge smile, “I didn't recognize you with all the, you know,” Jack gestured to his own hair, “going on.”

Forget everything, Rhys was loving his morning. Oh, that one minute was giving him blackmail for a lifetime. He bit his lip trying to not let his grin grow any further and he could practically feel Yvette glowing with the same pure delight.

“I-It's Vasquez, sir.”

“Did I ask?”

“No, sir, Handsome Jack, I- just-”

“Shut up, I don't care. What are you doing here anyway, lost your way to the mail room?”

Vasquez tried to recompose himself, “I don't work there any-” Jack's glare made him backtrack, “You, ah, called me here, sir.”

Rhys was making a mental list of all the ways he would be able to shut Hugo up when he started getting too full of himself. It was a long, delicious list.

“Oh, damn, yeah. I need you to pick a sandwich for me from that place across the street, you know? Just bring me whatever looks can clog my heart faster,” he wanted to take a picture when Vasquez didn't move “Do I need to speak stupid so you can understand?”

He put his winning smile as if he was the chosen one “Of course, sir. I'll be right back,” and fuck if he didn't run to the door.

Jack had the decency of waiting for Vasquez to get outside to cackle, “Oh, man, wish I could see his face when he finds out it doesn't open for more two hours. And a- a freaking cybernetic pinky, goddamn what a _wimp_! As if the hair implants weren't enough,” he leaned on his knees.

Rhys was having serious trouble muffling his own laugh. First, Wallethead, now he finds out Handsome Jack laughs like an old man. He was so focused figuring out how he would tell it all to Vaughn he didn't notice the implications of what was happening.

There were only him and Yvette left.

“Having fun, kid?”

Rhys jumped like a dumbass.

There stood Handsome Jack, grinning at him and actually acknowledging his existence. He forced himself to not be speechless, to not stare like a dead fish and let the job opportunity slip through his fingers.

“A little, sir,” Rhys managed to answer, wanting to wince the same time. Do it, sass the only man who can both kill and fire you.

He unclasped his hands behind his back, hoping changing the position would somehow make him look better. It was the right move, because the moment his cybernetic limb came into view he could swear Jack's eyes sparkled.

“Damn, look at you,” he grabbed it, ignoring Rhys tensing up “You came packed,” Jack turned the arm around, running his fingers through the warm metal like it wasn't a part of his body, if the sensitivity hadn't gone to hell Rhys would be embarrassed “Packing a piece of crap, but still impressive.”

He frowned, it may be but it was _his_ outdated crap “It still works well,” a lie but nobody had to know.

Jack hummed, flexing the fingers and testing the articulations, “I said it's impressive, didn't I? Way more than a pinky.”

He let go of the limb and looked at Rhys' face again. Before he could comprehend, Jack was grabbing his chin, destroying every notion of personal space. Rhys gulped down, he could feel the CEO's breathing on his cheek as the man checked his eye. His mask even looked like real skin from that close.

It was like being face to face with a predator, better to not make any sudden movements.

“Did you went on a shopping spree at Robotics?” Jack moved his head around, inspecting the port on his temple, luckily he didn't prod it “You can talk, kitten.”

Rhys was not really sure he could.

“I- I was part of the experimental group for the first cybernetics.”

“You let those freaks scoop your eye out and drill your head for an _experiment_?” Jack finally let him go, Rhys felt as if he cheated death.

“And a raise,” he replied without thinking.

The CEO looked pleased with his answer though, “What's your name, robot boy?”

“It's Rhys, sir.”

Jack tested it a few times, saying it wrong at least half but Rhys loved his life too much to correct him. The intense eyes moved to the tattoo on his neck and he fought the urge to cover it, but Jack didn't laugh. Instead he nodded, as if agreeing with his own thoughts.

“Even though those implants are a lil' trashy nothing we can't fix with a trip down Robotics. And you have a pretty face – Mox gonna love it,” Jack hummed and pat his cheek brusquely “Congrats, Rhysie, you just got yourself another raise.”

Rhys' mind halted for a minute. There was a lot going on and between Handsome Jack calling him pretty and getting a new kickass job, he was not sure to which react first. He glanced at Yvette who was looking at him with wide eyes and thumbs up then back at Jack, who was obviously impatiently waiting for a reaction. It was not clever to let his boss waiting.

“Thank you so much, sir,” Rhys knew he was beaming like an idiot, he couldn't stop.

Vaughn would be so happy, fuck. They wouldn't be evicted. Rhys would even be able to buy new parts to his arm in a few months if the salary was good.

Jack shrugged, “Yeah, yeah, now hop off and go make me money. Meg will send you the details or something.”

Rhys was halfway to the door, holding his excited blabber with all his strength when Jack called again:

“Oh, and, pumpkin? Your face won't save you next time you are late.”  
  


 

* * *

 

 

“Bro, calm down or shut up,” Vaughn interrupted, holding Rhys' arms before he broke something flailing them around. Again.

Yvette, resting against the cubicle's wall, said, “Rhys is going to be new Hyperion poster-boy. He is a model now.”

Rhys threw a nasty look at her. Rude.

“You were taking too long,” she shrugged.

“Wait, what?” Vaughn released him, “So Handsome Jack didn't fire you?”

“No! He gave me a promotion,” Rhys almost squealed, receiving a few glares from the near cubicles, “And said I'm pretty.”

“Oh, for fucks-”

“Woah, bro, good to know you are still twelve.”

“Shut up,” which is not that effective when you have a face splitting smile. He had the right okay? The fucking Hyperion CEO was interested in him for more than five seconds, he was going to gloat until someone shot him.

“He also called his cybernetics crap,” Yvette added to sour his moment.

Rhys crossed his arms. He would defend his glitchy, malfunctioning limb until the end of days – or until he became rich and managed to get a new one.

“You are just jealous cuz they won't be making posters of you,” he still showed her his tongue though, because he was a mature adult.

“At least I can live knowing there aren't creepy teenage boys jerking off to my face,” she grinned.

“Oh, _gross._ ”

“Rhys,” Vaughn called him, “We have money again. We are gonna keep our shitty apartment! Man, we need to celebrate, call everybody I don't even care.”

He couldn't hold down his own excitement at his friend's face, “Let's not go drinking though. I'm still traumatized.”

“Yeah,” Vaughn nodded, “Your last hangover put a new gross level on my life. Not even Sasha's bedroom can top that.”

Rhys was not going to protest. It had been an ugly morning.

“By the way,” Yvette cut in, “You won't believe what we found out about Assquez.”

Vaughn leaned forward, “Keep going.”

At that moment, his boss popped from his office, scanning the place. He didn't look very happy finding one of his employees chatting during work.

“Guess you'll have to wait till lunch, buddy,” Rhys quickly grabbed his stuff, Vaughn's boss screamed with him more than Henderson.

“Nooo,” he whined, sliding down to be out of his line of sight, “You can't just drop that and leave me hanging, dude. Come on, just a clue!”

“Sorry,” Yvette was already walking away “See ya. Rhys is paying today.”

“I'm not!”

“Yes you are, pretty boy.”

Sitting on his cubicle for the rest of the day was strangely underwhelming. Mostly because he had gushed about his new job to every human being remotely interested – or not. He was sure if he opened his mouth one more time Denise who worked by his side would punch him.

His goofy smile turned mischievous when Vasquez appeared again, three hours late, sweating and giving him a dirty look across the office. Henderson's pissed off voice calling for him was music to Rhys' ears.

It was good he was so chirpy, either way Rhys would still be rolling in self loathing from the stunt he pulled the day before. Jacking off on the office bathroom to a stranger's dick pic. It was a new low even for him.

But now he had a raise, a new job, Vasquez got fucked over and Handsome Jack called him pretty. Rhys was almost scared of waking up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank all the people commenting and leaving kudos, you are all great!!! And since this chapter was pretty much just nerd meets nerd, there is another one coming


	3. Robotics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> or Handsome Jack is kind of a douche

A whole week passed before Rhys heard anything about his new job. He received an email explaining he would be commissioned per session and had attracted a few glares from the sound he let out because those were a lot of zeroes.

He should've become a model. Business college was a waste of time.

The rest of the email was vague, saying Rhys would be contacted soon. And more days passed in blissful silence, with Vasquez still avoiding him. Good thing with his arm bugging more than usual since the dickbag _always_ noticed. It's like he sniffed Rhys' screw ups.

With that commission and if he scored Henderson's promotion he would manage to buy a new arm in two years maybe. If he didn't decide to invest it to move into an apartment that didn't smell like mold.

His thoughts were cut short with a loud bang. His desk shook violently, and Rhys would deny for the rest of his life, but he yelped. Loudly. After the initial scare he turned ready to kill the jerk who did that only to see Handsome Jack with his hand still splayed on the table.

“Oh my God, kid, look at your face,” he laughed, “Did I interrupt your wet dream?”

“I- No,” Rhys' face heat up, mostly in annoyance.

He was still trying to wrap his mind around Handsome Jack being there. A few feet away. Again. Rhys inclined his head, trying to check if it was a hologram or another sort of elaborate prank. He looked solid. And real. And way too big to his little cubicle.

“Just messing with you, Rhysie,” Jack remembered his _name_ “But seriously don't beat one at work, I'm all for sexual freedom and blah but that's way too freaky, got it?”

Rhys needed all his willpower to sustain his boss' stare, the memory of what he had done still fresh. Mostly because he had talked with John again for the past weeks, several times. The shame was kind of eating his insides, but no biggie.

“Not to be rude, sir, but what are you doing here?”

Rhys knew all his coworkers were shamelessly staring. So now he had to try and not look like an idiot in front of the whole department _and_ Handsome Jack.

“Is there a session today?” he was failing, “They said they would contact me before anything.”

Jack waved him off, looking around his cubicle uninterested. Rhys had never been happier Vaughn convinced him to throw his motivational posters away.

“Yep, and here I am, contacting you,” he picked a silly, decorative Batman doll he received as a gift from Yvette. Rhys couldn't help but notice Jack acted the same way as a bored cat, he wouldn't be surprised if the man started knocking things off his desk, “What, wanted something better?”

Rhys was about to splutter again like an idiot when the words escaped, “Is there?”

Jack's attention was on him again. Rhys was planning how to bury himself alive after work when his boss chuckled “Good answer, pumpkin! Now get your ass up, up up up, we have stuff to do. Well, I do.”

He was escorted away into the elevator, the department's eyes burning holes on his back. Rhys was skipping work with Handsome Jack for all the world to see. He felt smugness curl the corner of his lips. Still, his reflection showed him only slightly better than the morning at his office. He wasn't half asleep but his clothes were far from photoshoot material.

“Sir, are we going to shoot today?”

Rhys was ready to be ridiculed by the stupid question, but Jack didn't laugh.

“Pff, don't worry, kid. We are going to have a lot more _fun_ ,” the way he said it made Rhys more apprehensive, “And you can take this stick off your ass and call me Jack. Or handsome if we get to it,” he leered. That was a leer. There is no other way of putting it.

“Ok, Jack,” Rhys gulped.

He heard the rumors about Handsome Jack flirting openly with everyone. Rhys just hadn't expected it to be... so... openly. He could see the million future scenarios where he made a fool of himself letting his dumb crush too obvious. Oh, God.

When the doors opened he almost ran away, Jack's presence made the elevator claustrophobic. Rhys had no time to wonder in what he got himself into before noticing he had never been in that floor before. It was, gently putting it, a fucking mess. There were no visible cabinets, parts of things scattered around and people working in badly placed tables or walking.

“What are we doing again?” he asked. Jack put a hand on his shoulder and guided him through what had to be a department. Was that somebody sleeping on a pile of scrap?

“We are going to get you upgraded, kitten. Update whatever old rusty software you have and give some magic to those fingers,” Jack strolling around was probably not new by the way people just kept doing their things. Or maybe it was theirobvious sleep deprivation.

“Upgraded?” Rhys gasped, stopping on his tracks, “Yeah, no, I don't have enough money for that.”

Jack eyed him and scoffed, “I can see that, Rhysie,” which was offensive, “That's why I'm paying, duh.”

Rhys was about to protest but a heavy hand covered his mouth. That was also very big too and warm. He tried to not imagine what else they could do with him.

“Shhh shhh, let's not go into the whole 'oh Handsome Jack you don't need to, I will never be able to repay you with my shitty salary, take my body',” Rhys frowned and considered licking the palm to get free, “They wanted me to get a new face for Hyperion? Fine. But you'll have to _look_ Hyperion, and Hyperion looks like whatever I say. Got it?”

Rhys nodded. Jack took his hand off, “I'm not repaying you with my body.”

He would not think too deeply about how he totally would if he asked though. Apparently Rhys really was that easy.

Jack smirked widely, “We'll see, sweetheart. I'm feeling nice today, you have any questions?”

Many.

“Can I choose my new arm?”

“Nope,” Jack pointed at Rhys' everything, “I have total creative control over it, pumpkin. So just relax and let ol' Jack remodel you, 'kay?”

Rhys didn't remember the contract saying anything about giving Jack rule over his body. But he may or may not have skipped a few parts on his excitement. Also, he was not going to risk his sweet new job – and life – defying Handsome Jack. It couldn't be that bad, right?

Right?

Entering a large lab with pictures and prototypes of new cybernetics killed his nerves. Self consciousness washed over him and he tried to cover his prosthetic arm with the real one. A thrill ran through him alongside it, those models were so cool. And he was going to get one.

Jack didn't notice, he was too busy pushing away scientists and engineers to grab someone. Rhys was left standing awkwardly until he came back pushing a confused readhead girl. A girl as in, no older than twenty at most.

“Rhysie, this is Gaige,” for a second, Rhys expected him to introduce her as an intern but he saw the very impressive name tag — she had the type of position of someone that earns more in a month than him in a year, “I was going to make a joke about upping your junk buuut she's eighteen and that's just... not cool. At all. Anyway, Gaige here's the guy, do your thing.”

“'sup,” she greeted, not impressed with Jack's attitude. Her eyes landed on Rhys' arm instantly and she smiled, raising her own – much cooler – cybernetic one, “Aw, dude, come on, robot fist bump!”

Rhys was not about to contradict the teenager messing with his non-human parts, so he raised his fist and Gaige hit it enthusiastically, metal clanking. She wasted no time in pushing him into a chair – throwing boxes that looked kind of important on the floor.

“Look at this, it's like a super old model,” Gaige gushed at his arm and he let out a dry 'thank you', “Don't get mad, man, it's- What's the word? Ah, yeah, vintage. Can you take it off so I can have a better look?”

Rhys spied Jack standing near them, watching. He thought the man would go away after introducing them, but there he was. So he was serious about taking full control.

It made Rhys more than a little nervous, yet he still reached back, pressing the buttons on his shoulder with practiced ease. He never had a problem with his arm or taking it off in front of other people, but still... Removing your own limb was sort of intrusive.

Gaige, of course, only moved when Rhys nodded at her. She grabbed the arm and put it on the table carefully like it didn't weight a shit ton.

“This is amazing, seriously, where did you get this stuff?” At last someone who doesn't call it crap, “Hold up! It's from the first line isn't it?”

“Yeah?”

Gaige seemed about to explode with excitement, babbling about it and the improvements and how rare it was to find those models. When it became clear she had forgotten about Rhys, he looked up at Jack, puzzled.

“Isn't she a bit young?” he whispered.

Jack shrugged, “She is a genius, kiddo, found in a special college program or something like that. For what she earns me could blow someone up for all I care” he light up with Rhys' alarm, “Gaige doesn't break her toys, don't worry, kitten.”

“I'm not worried about _breaking_ ,” he confessed. If those designs on the walls were Gaige's, Rhys was more scared of leaving with a missile arm.

She spun back on her chair, remembering them, “Do you do your maintenance yourself? Like, this model is definitely not supposed to last so long, or to have this screen. At all.”

“Ah, yeah, I put it in,” he admitted a little proud, “Couldn't buy a new one but you can't walk around with a rusty, squeaky arm you know,” Rhys shifted, he could feel Jack staring at him.

“Oh, fuck, that's so cool! You gotta tell me about those-” Jack cleaned his throat, “Later. Later is good. I can get you a new one with the whole ECHO connection updated, the new models last way longer too,” she grabbed a notebook and started scribing, “So you want something super smooth and sexy? Or wanna scream badass all over? Want some gadgets too? Like, you can get a detachable hand and put a lot of stuff in the place. Nerds over there made a cooking line,” Gaige scoffed, “I think you should get something with a lil more _boom_.”

Rhys turned to Jack again, helpless. Between Gaige energetic rambling and the fact his new arm wasn't going to be his property exactly, Rhys was a bit lost. He just knew the boom was out of question. Totally out.

Jack, on the other hand, seemed endlessly amused with his horror, “Unless Rhys is into some fight club, let's stick with the smooth one. Rather have him not exploding or stabbing something on the shoots,” he pondered, “It'd be pretty cool though.”

“No, thanks,” Rhys decided to interrupt his train of thought before it went any further.

“Just- make something to match his face, alright?” Jack grabbed his head and pointed it on Gaige's direction, “Take a picture if you need.”

Rhys considered if slapping his boss away would make him lose his jobs. For a scary guy, Handsome Jack sure was handsy. Ha. Worst pun of his life.

“I'm cool,” Gaige huffed, tearing a page from the notebook, “Already have an idea. What about the paintjob?”

“Black, chrome or yellow again, pumpkin?” Jack asked with the easiness of someone who had given it too much thought.

Rhys would be lying if he said not having full control about his appearance was kind of unnerving. But the fact that Jack was giving him – a small – freedom of choice made it bearable. He wondered how he'd end up looking like if the CEO had full control.

“Chrome would look cool.”

“Cool? You are going to look a million dollars, Rhysie,” which was probably how much everything would cost.

Rhys couldn't believe his own life while Gaige asked him about his ECHO implant. Jack's hand was a constant presence on his shoulder, distracting each time it moved a little.

He was a little shocked actually, from their last meeting Rhys thought Jack couldn't go more than a minute without hearing his own voice. And there he was, quiet as Gaige updated his software and measured his arm. It was worse like that, having no clue what went on his head.

Rhys wondered if they would be seeing a lot of each other from then on. The idea made him a little anxious, he was still not sure if he should be more scared of Jack or simply interested.

A notification appeared on the corner of his vision, the upgrade was complete. Rhys removed the cable from his port and activated the scanner, ECHO-eye glowing. The changes were subtle, parts of the program looked smoother, it answered quicker and there were a few more accessible options on his menu.

“I can take pictures now?” he didn't try to hide his excitement.

“Yep. Goes directly to your ECHO tablet, if you have one synced.”

Jack finally let go of him, standing on his front, “Test it on me, babe, you know what they say about pictures,” He put both hands on his hips, puffing his chest and looking every inch one of his motivational posters.

“I really don't know what you are talking about,” Rhys smiled, adjusting the focus anyway.

“Just take the freaking picture.”

Rhys did, Jack's heroic pose saved on his documents, “Done.”

“That was it?” He dropped his arms, disappointed “Wow, talk about lame. Thought your eye would snap or have a flash maybe. Do we make those, Gaige?”

“We could,” she answered, giving Rhys' arm back, “I could put lasers too.”

“Knock yourself out then.”

With some light fumbling, he connected it on his shoulder socket, twisting until the arm clicked in place. Rhys moved his fingers experimentally, happy to find Gaige hadn't installed finger guns while he was distracted.

“It won't take long to be done,” Gaige said, wasting no time in returning to her sketch, “I'll send to you when it's all ready or if I need to measure something again, okay? Okay. Cool,” she mumbled under her breath about 'can't believe it won't even spit fire' and that was certainly their cue to leave.

The walk back, Rhys noticed Jack had absolutely no rush, no matter how much he insisted he had more important thing to do. Rhys bit his tongue before saying anything about how the CEO probably accompanied him just to slack off work. That was the only explanation for his interest on Rhys.

“Have you even had to look pretty in a picture that wasn't Instagram material?” Jack broke the silence.

If Rhys had modeled before? Ne-fucking-ver.

He was trying to not think about that too much, couldn't be very hard, right? He knew he was attractive, and he certainly liked to show off. So nothing that a little practice on the bathroom mirror couldn't solve. And it couldn't be worse than sending nudes to a stranger weekly.

However, Rhys decided to avoid the question, “I have a Facebook too,” he refrained himself from adding a 'sir' to sound more polite.

When Jack stopped, no trace of humor on his face, Rhys knew he had fucked up,“Kid, I don't personally give a crap about this whole marketing stuff. But I _really_ don't like losing, even if it's just a bunch of snot nosed interns. You following me?”

“Yes, Jack,” he promptly answered. Oh fuck, oh shit, Rhys screwed everything up on their _second_ meeting. He was getting better at it.

He fought the urge to lower his head like a kicked dog.

Jack stepped closer, “So, if when the session comes you end up being another Hyperion lackey all swagger no substance, I'll end up very disappointed. I'm betting on you here, you get that, right, Rhys?” He had that same hard voice that could probably make the devil himself cower.

“Yes, Jack.”

He caught his chin, “Then you won't waste my sweet time and will be a good robot boy, using that pretty face like a freaking brand?”

Rhys nodded, unable to not act like a broken record, “Yes, Jack.”

The CEO stared at him for a few, terrible seconds were Rhys couldn't even breath. There it was, that unmovable personality Jack was known for. Then, he burst laughing, letting him go. Rhys had no fucking clue what was happening but he let out the air on his lungs.

“Goddamn it, Rhysie, messing with you is just too good,” his shoulders shook. Jack laughed for a while longer, not giving a shit they were still in the middle of Robotics, “Oh, don't give me that look. Maliwan can keep all interns if they are that desperate, consolation prize as if I give a rat's ass,” he pressed the elevator button again, “Just wanted to see what'd take to shut your sass.”

Rhys stayed put as the man entered it.

“Your scared face is so great I'll let you keep the blue eye. Nice catching up with you,” the doors closed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you wanna talk, send prompts or anything at all, you can find me on  
> [ my tumblr ](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chrome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so much to each kudo and comment it means a lot AND you guys are fucking awesome <3  
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it's ~the start of something new~ between those nerds

Of course, things had to suck sometime.

Handsome Jack, as expected, disappeared from Rhys' life – he was a loser for being disappointed. Work started to pile up again and he had a past on his ECHO full of a stranger's dick pics. John and him were basically virtual fuck buddies and his friends would never let him forget it if they found out.

Ok, it was not _that_ bad... until he hit a low point during a meeting. Vasquez was presenting a new project and Rhys hated how not-so-bad it was so he decided toexploit all the tiniest faults on it. He was going to complain about a bad color scheme if he needed. It was working, even Henderson couldn't hide his smile and Vasquez was visibly pissed as Rhys' half lowered his hand after another question. And.

It.

Happened.

His arm choose that exactly moment to glitch. The shoulder stiffened, ignoring Rhys' controls. He desperately tried to use his eye to restart it but it was useless. The limb was locked down in a position that he could've hidden with some weird posing if Vasquez hadn't fucking noticed at the same time.

And proceeded to point it out to the whole room.

“You sure are chatty today, buddy,” he put a fake smile, “Ask away!”

Rhys clenched his teeth, trying to think of a way out, “It's nothing.”

“Don't be shy now, Rhys,” Vasquez made a surprised face, “Oh, I _see_. Not the best time to have a stiffy, pal.”

The others workers finally caught up and some smirked. Rhys pushed his shame down and tried to jerk his arm, make it work without being too obvious, but was still stuck in that L pose. Fuck, it was a nightmare and by Vasquez' shinning eyes, his wet dream.

“Well, that's what you get from old cybernetics, I mean don't know why you would rip your arm for this junk, don't get me wrong” he continued, “I just have a hard time imagining how that is going to give Hyperion a good image,” Vasquez pondered, “Maybe we'll look charitable.”

He shrugged and a small chuckle rippled on the conference room. Even Henderson, and Rhys could feel his promotion floating awayand panic rising. His human hand tightened into a fist.

“May be old but it's a little more impressive than a finger,” he put his biggest yellow smile. Showing weakness on Hyperion was like bleeding in a shark tank.

Vasquez's face tightened, “You know what they say, quality over quantity. And yours- well, there is no shame, Rhys, I'm sure they can photoshop you with a normal arm. Or maybe Handsome Jack's trying to give us a more... old school vibe. You know, with the rust and stuff, very bold of him.”

“Why didn't he chose you then?” Rhys couldn't keep the spite out of his words. The employees just watched them like a reality show, not caring about the personal turn. For them, it was a spectacle, waiting to see how far they'd go.

Vasquez was answering their hopes.

“Who knows what happened when he made me leave you two alone,” he shrugged, “Some people around here must know how _convincing_ you can be, right?”

Took all of his self control to not scream like child about how he knew Yvette had stayed there too. Rhys couldn't believe Vasquez was insinuating he had spread his legs to Handsome fucking Jack for an extra gig. Worse, he couldn't believe the number of people that side eyed him.

He jerked his arm again, still locked. Rhys wish he could hide the redness on his face, or that he could wipe Vasquez's smile with a fist, but he liked his work. Through the frown, he tried to use his happiest tone:

“Yep, he gave me the job while you went to fetch his sandwich,” he forced a giggle, “Come on, let's not get sidetracked here, Wallethead, it's your big- eeh, well, it's your project.”

Vasquez faltered, point to Rhys.

“Sure, buddy,” me made a move to turn back to the presentation but came back, as if remembering something “By the way I heard those old models always froze when they are forced to be in a position for too long. Good thing it's not a robotic leg, would be awkward to have you in your knees in front of the whole office.”

Scratch that, Rhys also wanted to sucker punch – with the metal arm – every person who laughed at him. Henderson was decent enough to stay silent, not looking on his direction. Somehow, that didn't make him feel better.

When the reunion ended, his arm was working again, except the fingers.

Rhys was the last one to leave, not unaware of the glances some coworkers gave him. If a new gossip about him sleeping his way to the top started, Rhys was going to personally see Vasquez run over by a truck.

Speaking of the asshole he also stayed behind, obviously waiting for him.

“You see, Rhys, when I get my new shiny office I won't leave you behind on those ugly cubicles, oh, no,” Rhys wrinkled his nose, able to smell his cheap cologne by their proximity, “Assistant Vice Janitor Rhys has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Handsome Jack will love having your face all over Hyperion then.”

“Fuck you, Vasquez,” he hissed.

“Woah, Rhys, are you really that desperate to keep your job?” The man feigned shock, “Tell me, did this junk of yours make things hard with Handsome Jack? Do you take it off for him? Or he doesn't know he's got damaged goods?”

Jack didn't know and Rhys was not going to tell him. It must have been all over his face by Vasquez' hum of appreciation.

“I see. When he shoots you I'll see your stuff personally thrown away before your nerdy friend can pick them.”

Rhys poked his chest, “I wanna see you keep this up when _I_ get the promotion.”

Vasquez nonchalance made his jaw tick, “Oh, so you have your own project then? And you think it's better than mine? I'd love to watch you fuck this up too, pal.”

He didn't. Rhys' was full of ideas and none of them was good enough or doable in the short time he had. But he was going to come with something if he had to die sticking it up to Vasquez.

He did his best to hold his head high walking to his cubicle, no matter the murmurs he could already hear with his name. Rhys almost ignored when his ECHO-eye announced a new message, would rather sulk on his desk until lunch time, but it opened by itself.

_From: Who do you think?_

_hey pumpkin come by my office i have a surprise_

_by 'come' i mean rn, move ur ass i dont have all day :)_

Rhys didn't even have the strength to be amused that Handsome Jack texted like a teenager. He sighed, deciding to get this over with. No better way to prove Vasquez wrong about him sleeping with Jack than to promptly go see the man after a month of radio silence right after the gossip began.

Nice.

He tried to distract himself from the shame and his frozen fingers. No matter how much he loved his arm, his eye- everything, people seemed to adore to point out the contrary every chance they got. Fuck them.

Rhys pushed the memories of his family away as he analyzed Jack's message. He had always wondered if the CEO had a private network, apparently it was true. That explained why Helios had such a shitty online security, all important stuff was locked with Jack. But that made him a big target, probably with only few people to help if it got hacked.

Hyperion could use a new security network. It would be hard but... Huh. Rhys chewed his lip, mind already racing through what he would need to do. It was a crazy idea, however would make Vasquez's plan look like a child's drawing.

Jack's secretary – Meg? – let him in without a second look or 'good day', Rhys' noted down his ideas as he entered. The man himself was standing with his back turned, staring at his ridiculously huge windows.

The view was nice though, Rhys would give him that if he didn't suspected he was turned for dramatic effect. Jack spun around, arms wide open. Yep, he was right.

“Rhysie, took you long enough.”

“I was in a meeting,” Rhys explained, not feeling up to his boss' games.

Jack scooted closer, frowning and Rhys smacked himself mentally. He couldn't let him find out about the glitches.

“What's with the sour look, princess?”

“It's nothing,” he tried to sound lighter, but Jack was having none of that.

The CEO looked him up and down and Rhys subtly pulled his hand out of sight. Of course, that was enough to catch Jack's attention. Rhys winced as he grabbed the bionic limb, raising the stiff, splayed fingers up in the air. If Rhys was ashamed before, he would rather die right there.

He could even deal with whatever mockery Jack came up with. But losing that job without receiving a single paycheck first was way more painful.

“Wow you're a bad liar,” Jack raised an eyebrow, “This crap happens often?”

He held the man's gaze, even though the tip of his ears burned, “N-no,” Jack looked unimpressed, “Maybe? Seriously, Jack, don't worry it won't happen during the shots. I just- I forgot to oil it yesterday, I swear.”

“Relax, Rhysie, not going to throw you outta window cuz your outdated arm has cramps. It's a friggin' miracle it's still works at all” Jack let him go, “That's why you pouting around?”

“I'm not pouting,” Rhys replied with a pout.

“Yeah,” he snickered, “you are convincing me.”

Rhys fidgeted for a second, unsure if saying more would put a bad light on him by Jack's standards. But the man didn't look like he would drop it and if Rhys learned something from their past encounters is that Handsome Jack always got his way.

“Let's just say it was worse earlier. Like, whole arm... worse. And a dickbag from my department kind of gave me a hard time about it,” and you, he didn't add. Then, with a dark satisfaction, he added “You know him, uh- Wallethead?”

Took a beat, but acknowledgment struck Jack's face only to be replaced by something else Rhys couldn't pinpoint, but wasn't good, “Oh yeah, right. What does he do anyway?”

“He is... at the coding and data mining department?”

Jack nodded, “Had to be a freaking code monkey. Wanna see him trying to give you anything while replacing- lemme see... Head of Robotics’s secretary for a week,” he quickly entered something on his ECHO, “Make it two, he'll need a lil extra to sort that mess out. For the most tech savy department they sure do love filling paper.”

He put it down, a satisfied smirk on his lips and Rhys just stared. What else could he do? Not trying to inflate his own ego but Handsome Jack had basically messed with Vasquez for him.

“Did your face bug too, kid? Usually there is more, uh, tears, maybe 'thank you' or a maniacal laugh going on, you are giving me nothing. Kinda rude.”

“I-” Rhys' fingers regained movement, and his mind followed the example, “Is that for real?”

“Yeah, duh?” Jack scoffed, “Know that's a new feeling for you, but your new job demands you to have some respect around here for once, princess. You are not just a face on a poster, you are representing _me_. When people think of Hyperion you'll have to be on the top five things that follow, right after me and awesome top technology.”

Rhys had almost forgotten that Jack was playing Barbie with him. Recalling it was a little degrading, but in Helios you gotta do what you gotta do. He couldn't help asking himself if that was really better than sleeping with your boss.

“Don't worry, you'll get used to the power trip. Now,” he rubbed his hands together, every inch an excited child, “try to no jizz in your pants, but there is still a surprise.”

He dragged Rhys over to his desk, pushing him forward to stare at the sleek, rectangular box laying there on a sea of paperwork. Jack nudged his ribs.

“Come on, open it. I already peeked and it's pretty freaking cool, perfect timing, by the way.”

Rhys opened the box, pretending the curiosity wasn't eating his insides. He let out a soft gasp when the whole thing appeared. A new, top model cybernetic arm. And it was fucking gorgeous.

The metal was smooth edges where the old one was blocky. The chrome paint shimmered just enough under the light where the other was lifeless, peeling yellow paint. It looked so expensive Rhys was afraid to even touch it.

“Jack- How much-”

“Nah-ah-ah,” the man shushed him, “We talked about it, pumpkin, and I hate repeating myself. So, whaddya think?”

The emotional roller coaster from the last hour alone was so intense Rhys was ready to curl down around the box and sob. But he tried to recompose himself and not ruin his self image even more in front of Jack.

He tore his eyes from the arm, the CEO waiting for his reaction. Oh, God, the guy had just given him a limb that costs more than his entire life. For Hyperion's image sake or not, he had. Also he demoted Vasquez for two weeks. For him. Rhys could physically feel his crush doubling in size.

Bad time, such a bad time. Bad person. Bad everything. Rhys was screwed.

“I, just, I- I,” he stuttered, feeling like a huge idiot. Rhys gulped down and tried to start again, glad Jack was keeping comments to himself, “This is beautiful. It's amazing, I- Honestly I wasn't expecting... this! It's... wow.”

Jack clapped his shoulder, “Top notch, fresh from the oven and etcetera. Glad you like it, Rhysie. Can't have my new poster-boy with nothing short of the best, can I?” He tried to play casual, but Rhys could see Jack was swollen with pride, “Now go on, plug it in let's see how it looks.”

Rhys looked down, at his full sleeved shirt. Great day to choose one of the only he didn't cut off.

“So, uh, where is the bathroom?”

“Bathroom?” Jack rolled his eyes, “God's sake kid, not the time to get shy. Unless you are hiding a pair of boobs just take it off,” the corner of his lip tugged up, “Promise I won't jump on you.”

Rhys masked his blush with exasperation. Biting his tongue to keep quiet he decided to get it over with, unbuttoning his shirt as fast as possible, missing a few times. He was sure couldn't even walk straight if Jack kept observing him like that. Seriously though, did he have to look?

Rhys freed his cybernetic arm from the sleeve, refusing to take it all off. It was cold there. His skin was covered in goosebumps.

“Nice ink, princess,” Jack purred.

Totally the cold's fault.

“Thanks,” Rhys mumbled, “Yours is too.”

“Shame we can't show it on the ads, would attract a lot of interns,” he chuckled.

Rhys ignored him and rushed to take his now old arm off. The new one was... surprisingly light, would take a while to get used to. While he messily put it on, Rhys was ready to hear Jack laughing and announcing it was all a very organized prank. The CEO was capable of that.

However, the systems connected and nothing came. Rhys took a sharp intake of breath, testing the movements, marveling on the smooth rolling of his wrist and the human likeness of the chrome fingers. He activated the projector, it wasin fucking colors and high definition. Rhys was split between having a nerd boner and crying.

“Damn, I was so right – I mean, duh – you are looking _new_ , Rhysie. Fresh,” Jack broke the silence, “Sleek and fancy enough to be the Hyperion face. Can go around snapping a lot of panties after that.”

Honestly, the CEO could say the dumbest, most obscene thing at that moment and Rhys would still answer with a dopey smile.

“Thank you, again,” Rhys tried to put all his sincerity on those words. He couldn't give a fuck about what his department would say when he returned from Jack's office, a glitchy arm later, with that shinning new thing.

God, he'd let the whole Helios think he was having hardcore gangbangs with his boss with how he was feeling. Rhys would even wave at his mother if she passed by him. Jack finally noticed the level of his high spirits and faltered.

“Yeah- uh, don't make it weird. Weirdo,” he coughed “I'll tell the nerds they can schedule the shots. Go rub your new toy in people's faces.”

Jack sat down, quickly grabbing his ECHO as if it contained the secrets of the Universe. Shrugging at his weird behavior, Rhys took the clue and walked away, old arm on the box and chrome fingers wriggling.

 

* * *

  
  


Rhys made sure to roll up his sleeves before stepping into the restaurant, putting his new tech right against the light while he approached his friend's table. Like the assholes they were, Rhys was promptly ignored until he coughed loudly. Very loud, just to be sure.

Sasha turned, probably to shut him up, but her eyes snapped down “Woah, what's _that_?”

The whole table's attention was on him then. Rhys really loved showing off.

“How did you get this beauty?” Fiona arched an eyebrow, “Did you finally kill that Vasquez guy?”

Vaughn whistled appreciatively while Yvette smirked, ready to ruin the fun “Came from his new sugar daddy.”

Rhys spluttered, “Jack's _not_ my-”

“Wait, Jack? As in, Handsome Jack?” Sasha cut him, “Holy shit how did you get him to sugar daddy you?”

“Jack said Rhys has a pretty face,” Rhys looked at his bro with utter betrayal.

“He must have a lot more by the looks of this arm,” Fiona's grin was devilish.

That was not how Rhys had envisioned their reactions. He had expected a lot more 'oooh' and 'aaah', with a couple of compliments. While the others laughed, Rhys sat down, crossing his arms.

“Ha-ha, you are so funny,” he said when they calmed down, “Can we not though? I already have to deal with my whole department thinking I'm sleeping with Jack.”

They didn't look half as surprised with that as expected, “Let me guess, Assquez?” Rhys nodded, “Eh, relax, bro, he is just mad you got the job.”

“And as far as Hyperion rumors go...” Yvette took a sip of her drink, “Sleeping with the big boss? Not that bad.”

“Unless Handsome Jack finds out,” Sasha giggled.

Rhys shivered, he hadn't thought about that. Jack would put a hole on his head. No, thinking positively, he would just get fired. Yvette, as always, sensed his inner freak out and interrupted it:

“It's just lower level gossip _please_ , it will never never reach Handsome Jack. Remember that time there was this super thing going about how he was responsible for Atlas bankruptcy? Not even that got his attention.”

“Pretty sure he just doesn't care,” Fiona added.

“And,” Yvette continued, winking at Rhys, “By the eyefucking between you two maybe it won't stay a rumor.”

Rhys groaned, hiding his face from the world. Vaughn put a hand on his back, comforting him because he was a true friend unlike those backstabbers. Until he opened his mouth:

“Can you ask him for a new couch next time? Or one of those plasma TVs?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to come talk to me on [ my tumblr ](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/) srsly, I'm always eager to meet new people


	5. Cupcake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao do any of you have any idea how weird it is to write sexting and try to make it sound remotely good??? I'm punishing myself with this fic I swear

Apparently there was a lot more about 'modeling' than just get there, look pretty and take pictures. Maybe Rhys should've done some research about the whole poster-boy thing.

Looking around the weirdly spacious and well decorated floor of the Marketing and Propaganda department, he was sure of it. It was the complete opposite of Robotics, people there looked fancy, well dressed and _rested_.

Honestly, it was a little intimidating.

“Well _hello_ , you must be Rhys,”The woman walking- no, strutting on his direction was beautiful, heavy eyes staring at him under all the makeup, “Call me Moxxi, hon, you'll be working under me now,” she flashed him a predatory grin.

“Nice to meet you...” She was rounding him, eyes racking up and down as if analyzing a new car, “What?”

“I have to give it to Jack, he has good taste. Sad thing I can't put those legs into the shots, yet” Moxxi's manicured fingers touched his new arm, “Looks like he's been treating you right, huh, sugar?”

Rhys closed his mouth, nothing more than a nervous chuckle escaping him. Height difference or not, he felt like a doll under Moxxi's gaze even when she stepped back.

“I'll have fun with you,” she walked away, not waiting for him, “Rush, we have a lot of looks to test and you won't be leaving without a new haircut.”

Rhys wondered if he was going to get paid for it. With his luck, probably not. He sighed and followed her.

No matter how vain he was, Rhys had never stayed put in a chair with people fussing over him for so long. Moxxi was there the whole time, mostly silent but giving an input from time to time about what kind of foundation they should use and what blush would look better.

Actually, it was kinda nice, but after two hours Rhys got tired of playing silent canvas.

“So,” he started casual, which was weird while trying to not move his face's muscles “Jack has to put up with this too?”

Moxxi seemed to remember he was a human being capable of human actions, “Oh, yeah. He is not as quiet as you though, complains the whole time about how hard it is to wash off his mask later,” she huffed, amused, “Ends up taking double the time just to finish it and let's not get started about his photoshoots. That ass just _loves_ to make my life harder.”

Rhys gave a small smirk, he could totally see that,“Why does he even use that mask?”

“The big question” Moxxi shrugged, “Sorry, sugar, never figured out. Jack wasn't big on sharing his life with me, or anyone. Don't tell him, but he was good enough in bed to make me forget about that thing.”

Rhys raised his eyebrows, “So- Er, you two... dated?”

The woman brushing his face snorted and there goes his self assurance they weren't paying attention. Moxxi didn't even acknowledged that, only looking at Rhys with a grin that could destroy cities.

“You could say that, darling,” she purred, “But I dumped his ass, don't let him tell you any other way.”

“Ah,” was all Rhys mustered.

Of course they did. He could see that, Moxxi was the type of woman a guy like Jack wants. Gorgeous, with a powerful position and looks like she could smash your life wearing hills. That didn't bummed Rhys out, at all.

Stupid crush.

“Must've really hit his ego,” Rhys replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Probably. Jack likes to micromanage, he is a control freak” she pointedly looked at his cybernetics, “And I enjoy my mess.”

Rhys would feel less vulnerable stark naked on the streets. Jack may be intimidating, but Moxxi looked able to eat him alive and spit his secrets.

“See, I was ready to go with the whole cutiepie look on you – you even have the eyes,” she inclined forwards, “Make Hyperion look like something good hearted virgins can handle too, but you just gave me an idea. You and Jack's little gift.”

“I'm not a good hearted virgin,” Rhys was really proud he managed to say that without sounding like a whiny kid.

The pride diminished a little when Moxxi's eyes gleamed as if he had said the magic words, “Let's spice you up, sugar.”

Rhys could say for sure – three hours later – that he hadn't expected that. He didn't know what he had expected at all, but wasn't that.

He looked at the guy staring at him on the mirror, mouth agape, because it _couldn't_ be him. The hair hadn't changed a lot, but just enough to frame his face differently. And his face, oh, fuck, where to start. He was afraid of touching it and smearing the makeup around. It was nowhere as flashy as Moxxi's but he wouldn't be mistaken for a 'cutiepie' anytime either.

Rhys' first thought was: it matches the arm. The second: I should really wear makeup from now on. And the third, the one that stuck, was: What will Jack think?

He fought the urge to lick his lips, ignoring how much he just wanted to stumble on the CEO on the corridors. Moxxi – because she could read his soul – grabbed his shoulders gently, staring at his reflection's eyes.

“Damn, darling, aren't you just delicious? We did good work here today, girls,” the makeup and hairstylists gathering their stuff smiled, “And you,” Moxxi squeezed him, “Go break some beds and come back Monday looking really pretty for me, alright?”

Rhys decided to not argue with that.

 

* * *

 

Jack kissed Angel's forehead and pulled the blankets. Jesus, it had been one of her jumpy days. Running around the house after dinner, talking about her day so fast only a parent could translate. Angel went from the drawings she made to the nearing trip to the zoo, until she was babbling on Jack's lap about giraffes, dozing off.

It was good though, the first time she ever talked about her new school with a smile. Jack sometimes would regret that choice, but it was for Angel's own good. Her future. She would understand someday.

He sat on his bed, relaxing after a long day as a single father and CEO. The only stuff he had been trying to forget all day coming with full force: Rhys' dumb face after he got the new arm.

“Ugh,” Jack groaned. His type was 'people that can probably murder you in your sleep' and never dorks. Dorks did nothing to him. But when Rhys looked at him like that, Jack had to fight the urge to pin him against the nearest surface.

But that's not what made him opt for a tactical retreat – Handsome Jack doesn't run away. It was the sudden desire to make Rhys smile like that again. No, thank you.

Until he could get Athena to babysit Angel again for a night out, Jack knew just the right way to distract himself.

> _< u up?_

That wasn't supposed to become a thing. But when Cupcake contacted him again, horny and very willing, well, Jack was not one to say no to sex, virtual or not.

> > yea just cmae back frm a partyy
> 
> _< gotta admit u managed to keep ur never drinking promise for a long time _
> 
> > shut upp, what d u want?
> 
> _< rude ):_
> 
> _< unless u got someone with u, u know what i want _
> 
> _< that and if u can write like u have a brain again_
> 
> > u are so annoying
> 
> > ok lets do it

Jack could very well just open the pictures Cupcake had sent him for the past month and work alone. But pestering him was half the reason Jack still talked to him. He loved to see how far he could push until the guy shoved back.

> _< what you wearing cupcake _
> 
> > boxers, on the bed
> 
> _< same, only have a pair of sweats _
> 
> _< would you let me kiss your pretty mouth babe? until its all wet and you have to hold on me to get a grip_
> 
> > I would
> 
> > Id bend my neck for you to mark me up

Cupcake was always surprising him, altering between flustered and dirty talking in a blink. Jack was still trying to understand what made those little changes, but for the moment he was going to enjoy it, sneaking the free under his pants.

> _< your neck wouldn't be the only thing marked _
> 
> _< I'd make sure you can't go out without ppl knowing you were fucked real good _
> 
> > come on John dont tease today
> 
> _< relax babe we'll get there_
> 
> _< you already getting all worked up from this? _
> 
> > so bad, I'm rock hard
> 
> _< arent you easy tonight?_
> 
> _<_ _you_ _touching_ _yo_ _urself?_
> 
> > yes
> 
> _< dont. i didnt let you _

The answer was immediate:

> > sorry

Jack pushed his sweatpants down just enough to free his erection. Maybe he should meet that guy in person, not as if they didn't know what each other liked already.

> _<_ _get naked_
> 
> > just did
> 
> _< you are so obedient, babe, so desperate for it arent you_
> 
> _< how come nobody got you at that party_
> 
> _< if I was there id give what you need_
> 
> > I know you would John
> 
> > Im laying with my legs spread open
> 
> > what do you want me to do?

Jack didn't imagine Rhys' splayed under him, letting him take the reigns. He didn't. But his hand tightened around his cock, stroking the hot flesh with an even pace.

> _< get your lube and finger yourself_
> 
> _< no touching your dick, got me?_
> 
> > yes

He knew, even though there was no way to be sure, the guy would obey him. They really should go out in person. If he was half of what he seemed online it would end in, at least, pretty remarkable sex.

> _< open yourself slowly, cuz if I was there something way bigger would be next_
> 
> > bigger? Hm, Im having trouble remembering it
> 
> > why dont you refresh my memory

Jack grinned, that was as close as he would get to ask for a picture. Good enough for Jack. He changed hands so he would be holding his cock with the unmarked wrist, it would be a nice one. The dark patch of curls with his dick standing proudly, inclined to one side and the head shining under the flash. Not to stroke his ego or anything – it was – but Jack made dick pics an art form.

> > fuck

Cupcake reacted quickly.

> > fuck you'd feel so nice inside me

Jack returned to his rhythm, more than his ego swelling. The pleasure coiled hotly on his navel, making typing a little harder.

> _< you wouldn't be able to walk after i had my way with you _
> 
> _< how many fingers you using?_
> 
> > three, it's not enough
> 
> > my dildo is too far tho shit

That was new information. Jack would archive that for later, he certainly wouldn't mind a picture of that sweet ass stretched around something else – and he saw it before, was a really nice ass.

> _< but feels good cupcake?_
> 
> > so fucking good,

It was more than obvious by how long he was taking to send the messages. Jack wasn't even there and the guy was wrecking himself, god. A bead of precum slipped from the tip and he spread it around, using as a weak way to ease the friction.

He imagined Cupcake, biting his other hand trying to not make much sound – he commented he had a roommate before. Arching his back every time he hit his prostate. Jack's breath was turning irregular.

> > please let me touch myself John
> 
> > im so close

From all their little talks, Jack was sure Cupcake was loud in bed. He liked that, liked picturing pinning the guy's wrists down, making him unable to do nothing but moan and take it.

> _< not yet _
> 
> _< dont i get a pic too?_

The guy was way more private than him, and sometimes he wouldn't send pictures, or they wouldn't be so reveling. Jack could only remember two that showed his dick and he was okay with that. If he pushed too much the guy would probably run away so he wasn't really expec-

_Ping._

Jack bit his tongue when the image loaded. It was dark, but the long, pale body stretched on the bed was clear. Cock flushed, painfully red and untouched just like he ordered. One of the guys' hands was gripping the blankets, the other, the one disappearing between his legs, was chrome.

The picture was completely in first person, giving Jack a close view of the blush on his chest. And of the blue, circular tattoo on it.

He knew that tattoo. He definitely knew that arm.

Oh, son of a _taint_.

Jack would like to say he stopped, ended the conversation. But that picture alone sent a painful jolt through him, toes curling as he sped up. It was hard to keep texting, but Jack was determined.

> _< how you want me to fuck you babe? _
> 
> > anyway anywhere I just want
> 
> > I need it so much John
> 
> _< your ass up, trying to hold on while i pound you?_
> 
> _< or all spread, legs on my shoulders making you scream_
> 
> > yes, yes to it all, please
> 
> > id beg for it if you want, id do anything

Jesus Christ the alcohol really loosened him. Jack couldn't fucking conceive Rhys saying those stuff. But he could imagine that pretty face slack with pleasure, the pouty lips letting out the most delicious sounds while Jack screwed thoughts out of him.

His fingers tightened, trying to simulate how it would feel inside him.

“Fuck,” he sighed, breath heavy.

> _< you can touch urself _

Jack's hand was furious on the last strokes. Sweat already forming on his forehead as he bucked his hips up. He just needed to close his eyes and imagine Rhys there, bouncing on his lap- it did it. Jack came with a low groan, cum shooting on his abdomen and pleasure washing over his spine.

It was a hot wave that enveloped him while he tried to catch his breath. The afterglow was quick as the wave receded, leaving him dirty and alone, wondering what the shit he had done.

The ECHO was beeping.

> > u came?
> 
> _< yeah_
> 
> > it was nice, but im vry tired now
> 
> > good night John

Jack stared at the ceiling. Talk about backfiring.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYEEE you guys were asking if Jack knew about Rhys, WELL now he does
> 
> Also, thank you so much for all the amazing comments be here or [ on tumblr ](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/), it really makes writing and posting this story even more enjoyable for me!


	6. John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooh boy, ohohoh boooy, I don't know you but I really liked writing this chapter, sorry if it's longer than usual but go for it you lovely people NSFW ahead

First of all, Jack didn't get nervous. He didn't doubt himself either, alright. He was just not sure why the hell he was skipping a shit ton of other appointments to see a photoshoot he was not even part of.

His mind came with a lot of reasons: from he was bored to Rhys was his new pet project. Which was even worse because Handsome Jack doesn't make excuses for his actions.

For Christ's sake, he was Hyperion's CEO, one of the richest and most awesome people in the freaking world. He could order to have a horse made of diamonds and nobody would dare to question him.

So Jack puffed his chest and entered the damn studio he owned because he does what he wants.

His eyes automatically found Rhys, sitting on a high chair with people putting products on his skin to make it look more _natural_. Jack would've scoffed at that if the guy hadn't noticed his presence then, turning to him.

His mouth dried. Maybe he got the natural part wrong.

“Jack, hi,” Rhys smiled, unsure.

Black kohl made his eyes intense, specially the blue one, his face had a contour to highlight the cheekbones and Jack _knew_ nobody's lashes were so curved. And was he wearing lipstick too? Rhys was completely different from the sleepy kid on Jack's office a month ago. And yet completely different from the guy who offered to suck anonymous person's dicks.

His picture, spread on the bed, opening himself all flushed resurfaced.

Jack hurried to plaster an obnoxious grin before his dick got any ideas, “What's up, kiddo?” Jack raised a hand to ruffle that irritatingly perfectly gelled hair – it was shorter, a few strands falling on purpose –, but Rhys dodged, glaring at him.

“Don't. I don't think I can take another hour on that chair,” he pleaded.

It was interesting how quick he was warming up to Jack, refraining himself from being a shaky, stammering mess. A little annoying too, since know Jack needed to put more effort into pissing him off.

He told himself he was not warming up to the kid either. Rhys was not interesting, he was just pretty and had enough cybernetics to catch his attention. He just happened to show up while Jack was bored, that's it.

“That's a model life for you, sweetheart, time to get used.”

“Don't you have better things to do than pester my new toy, Jack?” He rolled his eyes as Moxxi approached them, sauntering graciously as always.

“Don't you have better things to do than question the guy who pays your salary?”

She smirked “How do you like what we've done to your poster-boy? He looks good right?” Moxxi rested against Rhys comfortably, shooting Jack a glance of somebody who knew too much.

And she probably did.

“What about all that bullshit about natural style?” Jack snickered, “You were talking my ear off about a babyface of whatever doesn't make the workers piss themselves.”

“I just wanted to make _you_ look like you don't eat your employees' balls for breakfast,” Moxxi put a hand on Rhys' chest, Jack wanted to slap it off, “But you had to meddle and give gorgeous here the arm equivalent of a Ferrari,” she shrugged, “So I found a middle term. Take your time, darling, I know it's a hard concept for you.”

“You mean you made him look like one of those wimpy pop stars?”

“I'm right _here_ you know,” Rhys frowned, gently stepping away from Moxxi, “And I'm looking great.”

He really was.

“Meh. You are still a few posters away from letting it go to your head, Rhysie,” Jack flicked his forehead, loving his affronted expression, “Start it up, Mox, I wanna see if he can pull his weight.”

Jack sat down on one of the nearby chairs not giving a shit if it had somebody's else name. People tended to be nicer to you when you sign their paycheck and carry a gun.

At first, Rhys was a mess. He couldn't follow the directions, kept blinking and glancing at Jack. He didn't know if Rhys expected him to get up and rip his cybernetics off or just downright fire him, but it made him smug. Yeah, he would've probably done those things if it was anyone else, but Jack was having his share of fun.

God, and to think three days ago the kid had been begging for his cock. He would freak out if he discovered the truth.

Then, Mox pulled Rhys aside during a quick break. From where he was Jack couldn't see them properly, but she whispered something on his ear and when they started again the world shifted.

Rhys stopped looking at Jack, and just like that he functioned. He didn't blink at the camera, didn't shift, gave all the right stares and smiles people asked of him. He wasn't perfect, but good enough to please the photographers and to caught his undivided attention. Jack's smugness had been completely stolen.

Mox stopped by his side, hip cocked to one side, “Don't drool on my floor.”

“It's _my_ floor,” he said quite grumpily.

“And is that also yours?” Jack's eyes hadn't left Rhys, and one particular movement made his shirt hang low enough to show a peek of blue ink – the same chasing his mind for days. He crossed his legs, jeans suddenly tighter, “Gotta be honest, Jack, I didn't think you'd choose him of all people, but now I can see why.”

“Don't know what you are talking about, balloon tits.”

She smiled, “Good then, that arm will look very pretty grasping my new sheets.”

Jack's fingers rasped the wood. It was none of his business who Rhys decided to sleep with. He had made his decision, no more fucking employees. No matter if Jack had proof of how nice would be to have Rhys on his bed. How easy – because he knew that kid was a little fanboy the moment he stepped into his office. And how beautiful he would look moaning under him. He was not worth the trouble. Nope.

“What the hell did you say to make the kid think he's Brad Pitt? Offered to suck him off?”

“Ask him yourself. But you can save the jealousy for later, Jack,” Moxxi leaned to say close enough to his face, “He is nice, leave him for somebody else if you plan on fucking it up.”

She walked away leaving him with a closed expression.

As he watched Rhys work, his bad mood deflated and Jack was left itching to grab his ECHO and check all the pictures the young man had sent him. Compare that pinky mouth, the arched lean torso with what was standing in front of him. He thanked God when it ended because Jack would never forgive himself if he had a hard on during a photoshoot of a random kid.

He couldn't help but frown while Moxxi went to congratulate Rhys on his good work and he was all to comfortable with her hands on him. None of his business, he recalled. He was not useless, now you can go away from his life, get laid and forget this awkward shit happened, Jack told himself.

But it was hard when Rhys came to him, immensely pleased with himself and a little sweaty from the lights making Jack want to lock him on his bedroom for a day and see if he would end up the same.

Lust was a bitch.

“You didn't totally suck, kid,” he announced, getting up.

“Thanks?”

Rhys turned slightly to grab a bottle of water, giving Jack full view of his ass. It was a very nice, perky ass, like in those damn pictures. Jack counted to ten so he wouldn't grab a handful of it.

“I'm serious, could have fooled me thinking you've done it before. All the smolder and pouting, lemme guess, teen magazines?”

“Oh, yes, I was pretty famous in high school,” his lips quirked up, “Lines of people wanting my autograph. Prom king. All of that.”

Jack put an arm across his shoulders, “Did you start lying about your sad, nerdy past after or before coming to Hyperion?”

Rhys squinted at him, but couldn't hide his amusement, “I wasn't nerdy.”

“Aw, pumpkin, tell that to your right hand,” Unconsciously, Jack guided him away “Now let's grab some lunch.”

That's all he needed, more time with the kid so his stupid horny brain would notice he was nothing special. Just an afternoon and Jack would delete that app and move on. Not the pictures though, those... could stay.

 

 

* * *

 

 

To Rhys' surprise, Jack didn't drag him to an overly expensive place. He was the type of person who loved showing they slept on a pile of money, but Rhys didn't think he could handle Jack paying something for him again so soon.

No, it was a nice place. The one where you go when you have a good bonus and wants to treat yourself. If Rhys hadn't just finished a photoshoot he would've left without a word.

He looked at Jack over the menu, after the glances he got entering the restaurant he was not insecure. Still, Rhys was going through some hardcore mental battles about how that was definitely not a date. They were just a couple of coworkers having an executive lunch.

Coworkers who were sitting on a far away table. And, accidentally, right on the day Rhys was walking around full of make up and wearing one of his best clothes. Just a normal employee who had the CEO's arm around him for two blocks. Although Rhys still didn't know why he would take him out to lunch, it was completely professional.

“I know the view is good, kitten,” Jack's voice brought him back to reality, “but you are getting on my nerves.”

“What? No, I was just- I” Rhys cleaned his throat, looking for a way out of being caught ogling his boss, “Wondering why you showed up.”

“You sayin I can't walk around my own building, kiddo?”

“No,” Rhys protested, face heating up, “That's not what I-” But then Jack cracked a grin and Rhys relaxed against his chair, “Jerk.”

The man didn't seem to care about it though, he just shrugged, resting his elbows on the table, “Got bored, decided to check on ya. See if Balloon Tits didn't steal your soul. Or dick,” He stopped for a second, “And wallet.”

Rhys really didn't want to know what kind of relationship they had.

“Moxxi is... cool,” Jack arched an eyebrow, “Seriously, despite all the 'sugar' thing going on she is very nice,” Rhys was not going to add how intimidating she was, “I'm liking work with her.”

Despite what he thought, Jack wasn't pleased with his answer. The man grumbled something under his breath while sipping his wine. Rhys was left clueless, wondering what he said wrong. Maybe even with their sort-of-friendly interactions their broke up didn't go that smooth.

“Does it have to do with what you two gossiped before you started to shine, pumpkin?”

With what they- Oh. It was Rhys' time to drink, buying some time. It was hard to think with Jack's eyes boring into him, but he couldn't say what actually happened.

The way Moxxi pulled him aside and Rhys was sure he was going to lose that job because he couldn't not be flustered around Jack. But she was kinda... nice wasn't the work, but she said they had put so much effort into his makeup he would look good with a dick on his mouth. It was weirdly flattering. Yet, what really got him going was:

“Stop sweating it, darling, that man?” Moxxi indicated Jack with her head, “Not really worth it, his problems have problems. But if you want a piece, make him work for it. Use that fire you showed before and he'll be eating from your hand.”

Rhys tried to protest and tell her he did not want Jack eating from any part of his body, but Moxxi shushed him, replying she should send Jack away then. Which would only be ten times worse, Rhys was not a shy, ten year old who couldn't behave around his crush. Also he was not a ten years old who thought he should pursue every single crush on his life.

His friends seemed to forget at least half of Hyperion would get on their knees for Jack if he so much smiled at them. So, yeah, Rhys didn't have it _that_ bad no matter what they said.

“Moxxi just gave me some tips,” he explained, trying to keep his cool, “Worried we were gossiping about you?” There goes the cool, flying through the window. Subtlety not far behind.

Jack snickered, “What bad can come from it, Rhysie? Gonna talk about how good I am in bed?” He wriggled his eyebrows, “About my rugged handsomeness and beautiful hair? Don't be shy we don't need Mox to discuss it.”

Rhys tried to hide his blush because one of those things was not completely wrong, “In your dreams,” he mumbled, sipping his wine again.

He may be crushing, but he wasn't blind. Rhys licked his lips, feeling the drink mix with the fruity gloss, and saw very well Jack's eyes following the movement. It wasn't an accident or innocent at all. Not when Jack looked at him again with a different kind of amusement.

“I have lots of 'em, kitten, and there is never a lot of talking going on.”

Rhys' breath faltered, impossible to mask his reaction after that. Luckily, that's when their food arrived, the waiter smashing the heavy atmosphere like glass.

“So,” Jack said while chewing since he was too rich for manners, “I know about the whole easy money, but that's really why you agreed to be a scientist's plaything?” He gestured to Rhys' arm with the fork, “Is there a sad backstory like, you lost it in a car accident yadda yadda and the cybernetics were heaven sent?”

Not even Yvette was so straight forward and, frankly, Rhys was glad he was used to worse. How many powerful people Jack must have pissed off before, he wondered.

“Actually...”

He didn't want tell the truth, the chances of Jack reacting badly were huge. Rhys would lie if he didn't know the CEO would catch him. But maybe that was the reason for the lunch all along, Jack never tried to mask his interest for his cybernetics before. Rhys gathered his courage – well, it was nice while it lasted.

“I was born without a hand and part of my forearm. And, uh, working on Hyperion was kind of always a dream I had? So when I saw the implants program and discovered it had both a raise and would make me better at data mining I thought, why the hell not. Only they couldn't make a prosthetic specifically for my arm, so I... You know, I let them...”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Jack interrupted, “ _Hold on_. Are you telling me you let those psychos not only drill your brain and trash your eye but also rip the rest of your friggin' arm off so you could get a jump start on the other losers?”

Rhys grimaced, there it was. The judging and disgust. He braced himself for whatever words Jack had prepared for him, however the man burst out laughing loud enough to get the attention of the neighbor tables instead. Rhys' eyebrows shot so high they almost reached his hairline. Was Jack laughing _at_ him? Was that really-

“Not even I let those scientists near me, they freak me out. That took some serious balls, kid,” he exclaimed, “I gotta admit, solid, titanium balls. If half of Helios had a teeny inny bit of it I would be fighting for my job so, yeah, let's thank that building is full of spineless, ass kissers.”

Jack raised his glass, running appraising eyes over Rhys' face. His grin contained something new, another shade of interest and – wishfully thinking – perhaps respect.

“Not to blow your ego, but maybe I'll be seeing you in a meeting some day. Stuffed up in a suit and looking all important. Sounds good?”

Rhys' heart skipped a beat, not believing his own ears. Handsome Jack was honestly praising him and not calling him a freak for chopping a limb off for a job. Jack swayed his cup, spurring Rhys into action again.

“Yeah,” they toasted, “Pretty good.”

He was so filled with giddy enthusiasm his mouth ran off:

“You know, to be honest I also did out of spite,” Jack waited for him to continue, “My family wa- is very conservative, they think implants are bad and I have to learn to live with my 'real self',” Rhys wanted to roll his eyes just remembering, “They also kept saying 'fake' body parts are ugly. So I thought: what's more hardcore than a prosthesis? A colorful, cybernetic one.”

“Rhysie,” Jack put a soulful hand on his chest, “Every time you open your mouth I know I choose the right poster-boy.”

Rhys was still a bit hold up by the fact he was still being regarded more or less like a plaything. He was not dumb, he knew the man was only after his appearance – even modifying it to his taste – and provoking him each time he got. But he also knew Handsome Jack was, at least, mildly impressed. So he shut up and smiled.

The rest of the lunch was like that, a surprisingly easy back and forth between them. Jack was intimidating and terribly charismatic, but Rhys didn't feel the initial fear towards him anymore. And if he had done what Fiona called his 'giraffe's battling eyelashes' a few times nobody needed to know, alright.

“Uh, kid, the wine going to your head?” Jack called when they exited the restaurant and started to part ways, “Pre-tty sure Helios is over there.”

“I have the day off, actually,” Rhys had wanted to cry when he discovered he wouldn't need to go to his main work on the session days – the commission more than covered the faulting hours –, “I'll head home.”

Jack didn't miss a beat, “Fine, let's go back and I'll give you a ride.”

“What?”

He was being ushered by his boss immediately, “Yeah, come on, I have a couple meetings I've been wanting to skip,” Jack let out a suffering sigh, “But every damn time I tell I'll not appear they are like, 'Oh don't worry Mr. Handsome Jack' let's reschedule it right away'. So _clingy_ , you know? You think after the tenth time they'd get a grip.”

“Is it important?” Rhys asked, a bit self conscious.

“Not enough for me to give a rat's ass.”

Which probably meant it was with Steve Jobs or about something that costs more than Rhys' apartment, college and body together.

When they arrived at Helios' garage Rhys easily spotted Jack's car. You need to be blind to not see a shinning convertible occupying three private spots. Also it was yellow. Judging by everything in Jack's life Rhys' shouldn't be impressed, but the yellow definitely caught him off guard.

He hated how the hideous thing was still so beautiful he was afraid to even breath on it's direction.

“Hop in, pumpkin, it won't bite ya,” Jack, of course, literally jumped in.

The carelessness made Rhys flinch. He used all his caution to not brush his metal arm on the car, smooth as it was, he didn't want to risk. Commission or not, Rhys wouldn't be able to pay that thing's paintjob after a whole life slaving for Hyperion.

Jack snorted, “Relax. This one's not even my favorite.”

Rhys shot him a last constipated look before they drove off the garage.

Sasha would be laughing her ass off if she saw him. A great way of convincing your coworkers you are not having sex/sugar babying your boss is to have lunch alone with him then go away on the middle of a work day on his flashy, more-expensive-than-thou sport car. Rhys was nailing it.

He wondered if the CEO knew about the gossip after all, he seemed way too pleased with himself. But... It was nice. Rhys had successfully survived his first gig, and the afternoon wind was working just right with his full belly. Honestly, if Jack ended up wanting to be his sugar daddy, Rhys had very few arguments against.

He was needing to get laid anyway, cybersex was not a good replacement. No matter he enjoyed reading John's dirty messages.

Unfortunately, they reached his home way too fast. Rhys stared at his apartment almost sadly, then turned to Jack.

“So,” Rhys started, trying to put his best I'm-not-desperate smile, “Thanks for the ride, it's a hell of a car. And for the lunch too, it was cool.”

Backtrack, his brain screamed, that was not date, stop talking like it was a date. But Jack only grinned, apparently oblivious to his fuck up.

“Yep,” he popped it, “You can go tell all your loser friends Handsome Jack graced you with his presence and a meal.”

Rhys huffed a laugh, “You didn't pay for it.”

The doors unlocked and Jack changed the gear, ready to drive away.

“Next time, pumpkin,” he winked, “Show your poor ass what good food tastes like.”

Rhys' couldn't tell if it was an empty promise, probably. Still, the excitement that flood his veins was almost embarrassing.

“See, you say that, but you strike me as the type of guy who lives of take out.”

Jack cocked his head to the side, tsking, “Already making assumptions and they suck. Just so you know, Rhysie, I'm a damn good cook.”

Rhys smiled, he gulped down his nerves at how close they were, only the seats keeping a sense of distance between them. He had no idea what he was doing, but he couldn't force himself to back down yet. Rhys wanted to show Jack he wouldn't just yelp and run away, he was not – as so many people had taken to call him the past month – a toy.

“You?” he succeeded in sounding playful.

“Oh, yeah, you'd be freaking begging on your knees for more if I gave you a taste,” Jack's smirk changed, eyes catching the way Rhys' breath stilled.

That was it, the pushing again. Trying to mess with Rhys to see him freak out like a cat playing with it's food. Rhys just wanted to leave Jack hanging, surprised and at a loss for words for once, when he replied:

“If I get on my knees I won't be the one begging.”

He exits the car before Jack can say anything, walking away with a renewed smugness at finally having the upper hand. He will have time to get embarrassed later.

Rhys only had time to reach the building's door when he is harshly turned around. Jack smashes their mouths together without gentleness. Rhys' quickness in holding his shoulders and kissing back is the living proof he had been waiting for that.

He lets himself be pressed against the door, a huff of breath leaving him before Jack's wet lips are on his again. He tastes like wine and is just as warm, his tongue prying Rhys' mouth open with ease.

Rhys had underestimated how good Jack would feel against him. The few inches he has over the man are useless compared to his bulk, enveloping Rhys from every side in a solid, heat made barrier. Jack's hands are firm on the nape of his neck, forcing him to open his mouth and by the muffled moan Rhys' lets out, he wasn't complaining.

At a particular harsh nip on his lower lip, Rhys remembers they are very much making out on the middle of the day and streets. He forces himself to let go of Jack to pat blindly behind him until the door opens.

Jack notices and doesn't stop. He is sucking Rhys' tongue like a lifeline while he follows him inside. And, honestly, Rhys doesn't recall or care how they managed to take the elevator and get in his apartment. He doesn't give a single shit if somebody saw them. The only thing that matters is keeping Jack there, on him, close. As if he would disappear if they stopped.

To his utter disappointment, is Jack who breaks the kiss. He runs his thumb by Rhys' wet, swollen mouth, torn between glancing around and staring at it.

“Kind of a shit hole,” he muses.

Rhys raises an eyebrow, internally relieved “For real? That's the first thing you say?”

Jack gives him a quick peck, smirking, “I wouldn't be talking if you made true of that promise, kitten.”

Rhys somehow doubted Jack was physically capable of shutting up during sex – or any situation – but he stared hardly at him before dropping on his knees. Jack's hand was on his hair, not pushing or anything, just a presence as solid as the man.

“Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?” he cooed. Rhys was going to rip that shit eating grin off.

He wasted no time in undoing Jack's jeans – a bulge already forming on the front – and his eyes widened a little when his half-hard cock appeared at once. Of course Jack went commando, how was he even surprised by that.

But... the sight was oddly familiar, which was crazy so Rhys brushed it off. Or he tried until Jack talked again:

“Speechless, cupcake?”

It all clicked into place, leaving Rhys sitting on his legs and with eyes wide as saucers. Though it couldn't be, right? That was one of those situations that simply don't happen in reality. But Jack had a knowing grin, like a cat who got the cream.

“You- No,” Rhys stammered, “You are not... That's not possible, you- Right?” Jack's amusement grew by the second, so did Rhys' mortification, “Oh my god. _John_?”

“Took you long enough, Rhysie.”

Rhys was having a very hard time. There was a lot going on on his head, and understanding he just had sexted and sent nudes to his boss for over a moth was difficult with the arousal clouding his mind.

“You knew?” he end up saying, kind of squeaking actually, “How long?”

Jack shrugged, as if they weren't having a discussion with his dick in Rhys' face, “Not long. There are not a lot of tattooed cyborg guys around.”

“I- The pictures I sent you,” Rhys wheezed, “Holy shit, the things I wrote. I don't- I-”

His raw panic was more than obvious, and Jack's response was a long sigh as if Rhys was overreacting. Which was very rude since he wasn't the one who sent nudes to his boss who now knew he jerked off on the office's bathroom.

“And you wrote some pretty good things, Rhysie. Made a lot of promises too” Jack cooed, “So are you really going to freak out and quit on me?” he held his cock, rubbing the tip over Rhys' lips, “Knew your mouth was only good to talk back.”

Jack was infuriating. Rhys could barely differentiate arousal from anger when he slapped the CEO's hands away. There was shame somewhere too, but he could deal with that later. Would _need_ to or he was going to freeze.

“Woah, kitten showing his claws. Come on, I wanna see how far you can go before chickening out.”

Rhys was determined to have Jack ask for it by the time he was done, so he gathered his self control to go slow. He rubbed his hands up and down Jack's clothed legs, rising more and more until he was caressing his hips and the trail there but not really touching the important parts. Rhys nuzzled his thigh, close enough so his warm breath would catch on his cock.

It was working, be by the rapidly forming erection or the way Jack was staring at him when he looked up again. The man was clearly displeased by not being immediately deepthroated and Rhys cut in:

“If you say some stupid shit like 'It's not gonna suck itself' I'm kicking you out.”

Jack visibly swallowed his words with a frown.

Rhys hid his small grin by kissing the V of his hips, nipping the skin and enjoying the involuntary twitches of the muscles. When he decided Jack was hard enough and about to scream with him to go on already, Rhys grabbed his length.

He had to admit, it was a very nice dick, just like in the pics. Veiny, with a large head and just thick enough to make his mouth water thinking about how good it would feel stretching him open. Rhys bit his lip and started to pump it, slowly.

He kissed the base, from there following some prominent veins with his tongue.

“Even though that's very nice and everything, cupcake,” Jack breathed, “There is still not a lot of begging going o-”

His words turned into a gasp when Rhys' squeezed his cock's head while licking the underside. He tasted the velvety skin without rush.

“Alright,” Jack continued after a second, “We starting to get somewhere.”

Rhys continued until the first drops of precum appeared, then he shifted his attention. He smirked before planting a kiss on the top, smearing most of it across his lips, being rewarded by Jack's fingers tightening on his head. He tongued the slit, pressing down until it was clean and Jack couldn't stay quiet anymore.

“Shit, look at you go, Rhys,” he sounded huskier than usual, “Making it look like a freaking lollipop. But, you see, I'm still not really feeling it- Oh, fuck!”

Rhys put the head on his mouth and _sucked_. It never occurred to him before that Jack didn't swear – if you didn't count certain words and very obscene phrasings – and there he was. Not begging yet, but the first crack.

Jack took as a challenge to keep talking:

“Knew those pretty lips would look amazing around my cock, I really,” Rhys started to lower his head, taking more of him in, he felt Jack's thigh tense under his bionic hand, “ _Really_ should take a picture from up here. Yeah,” Rhys relaxed his throat until it was all in, nose resting against dark curls while trying to adjust himself to the girth. Jack seemed to lose his train of thought, “You are really taking it like a pro, kid, I'm impressed.”

Without warning, Rhys started a punishing rhythm. Lips curled enough to cover his teeth and tongue cushioning Jack's cock, he bobbed his head fast. The reaction was instantaneous, Jack swore and gripped his hair tightly enough to hurt. Rhys considered it an incentive.

“ _Rhys_ ,” Jack let out a breathy chuckle, “You were saying the truth about your – _oh crap_ – cocksucking mouth.”

But even Jack couldn't keep his game up long enough, Rhys looked through his lashes to see him staring back, expression tight in utter concentration. His breath was coming hard and fast and only took Rhys to hollow his cheeks for his head to loll back, hitting the wall with a groan.

“You have no idea-” he sighed, “How fucking hard I'm holding myself back to not, ah, not just hold you and,” He stopped for a beat, “And wreck your throat raw, kitten.”

If Rhys' hands weren't so busy he would have tried to pay some attention to the tent on his own pants. He didn't know if it was the heaviness on his tongue or turning Handsome Jack into a gasping mess, but he was so hard it hurt.

Rhys moved his hips, trying to find some friction against the fabric of his underwear, but it was so little it only made matters worse. He whined, the corner of his eyes watering with the strain.

“You are getting off just from sucking me aren't ya,” Jack tried to provoke him, but it came out sounding ultimately turned on, “Fuck- Fuck, kid, if you keep-”

The fact that Jack still could babble – even if barely – made Rhys double his efforts. He lowered more of his jeans and grabbed Jack's balls with his human hand, massaging them while picking up the speed. Rhys knew his jaw would be killing him later and it only acted as encouragement.

The less Jack cursed and the more he groaned, obviously doing his best to keep still, more enthusiastic Rhys became. He knew Jack was close, so close, just a little more- Rhys stopped.

“What the shit?” Jack roared, eyes snapping down with what would've been fury if there wasn't a blush where his mask didn't cover.

Rhys raised an eyebrow, trying to put the best innocent look one could with a cock on their mouth.

“You are _so_ going to regret this later,” but Rhys didn't move, holding Jack's hips with both hands and giving him the universal 'you know what to do' look.

They stared at each other for a tortuously long minute, Rhys could feel saliva dripping from his chin and Jack looked about to rip his own hair in frustration. Rhys urged him with a small suck and that did it.

“Argh, fuck, alright, whatever! _Please_ , stop being a little shit and do what your cockwhore mouth does best,” Jack hissed.

Wasn't what he expected, but Rhys couldn't deny the shudder that passed him. He returned his movements with the same energy and didn't took long for Jack to moan a broken 'son of a taint' and cum down his throat. Rhys gagged, the hot liquid hitting the sore flesh, but he swallowed it all before letting Jack's softening cock slip from him.

They stood in silence, getting a hold themselves for a moment. Rhys was not sure he had the legs to stand and he still couldn't believe he had blown his boss/John/Handsome Jack at the front door.

“I-” he tried, needing to start again at how hoarse he was, “I told you.”

Jack was observing him plastered against the wall, sweaty and eyes intense. And honest to God Rhys was not trying to tease when he licked his lips, chasing his taste. But Jack took personal offense.

“My time, cupcake,” he singsonged with fake sweetness, tucking himself in and getting on the ground faster than Rhys could process. Maybe he wasn't the only one left with shaky knees.

His cocky smile spurred Jack further and he was pushed on the floor, manhandled until on all fours. Jack pulled his pants down, hands brushing his hard on and making Rhys gasp. Was the man really planning to fuck him so soon? And _there_?

“God, you should see yourself now,” Jack was mumbling, “All that pretty makeup smeared cuz you couldn't keep your mouth to yourself.”

Rhys' thoughts were cut short when two large hands spread his cheeks open, the vulnerability of the position only increased by being fully clothed. Jack kissed his lower back almost fondly.

“Hope your walls aren't thin, babe.”

“Ja-”

He gulped down when a hot wetness touched his hole. It sent a shock right up his spine. Oh God, Jack couldn't possi-

The man didn't tease or took his time, Jack started lapping at him hungrily. Rhys thought it was even worse, coupled with how long since someone had rimmed him, he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Rhys mewled, squirming under Jack's iron grip. He was trapped there, forced to endure that onslaught of pleasure, his hands being slapped away every time he tried to reach his dick.

“Fuck,” Rhys let his forehead hit the cold floor. He couldn't decide if it was the worst of best thing ever.

When Jack's tongue started to stab his opening, to then proceed to breach him relentlessly, Rhys scratched the hardwood. If only he was on the bed, or couch, anything, he had nothing to hold on there. With certain difficulty, he turned his metal arm back, managing to hold Jack's head as the man had done to him just before.

Jack kicked his knees apart, opening him even more and tearing a sob from his fucked up throat. Rhys thought it couldn't get any better, no better than Jack's burning tongue running on his insides, until there was a blunt pressure alongside it and a finger was being pushed in.

“Jack,” he whined.

Rhys had admired Jack's big hands a lot before, but actually feeling them was a whole another story. He wanted them there forever, God. How was he supposed to go back to his own fingers after that?

Another digit penetrated him and Rhys' back arched, he could feel his untouched cock leaking. His skin burned, clothes too tight and he couldn't remember how they ended up there or why they didn't do it sooner.

Rhys bit his lips painfully, afraid if he kept talking he would end up begging too or worse. He shouldn't have because soon enough the pressure of Jack's tongue slipped away from him and Rhys wanted to scream in frustration. He did, but in surprise, when the sharpness of a slap spread on his ass.

“Nah-ah, kitten, I'm going to hear you,” Jack chastised him, “And by the sounds you were making I _think_ you want something.”

Rhys shook his head the best he could, stubbornly. It was another wrong decision, because a finger slipped from him.

“No,” he breathed out.

“No what? You gotta tell me what you want, Rhysie,” he could hear Jack's grin.

“Another finger, come on,” Rhys demanded.

Jack put the second one again, “Like that?”

“ _Another._ ”

Jack hummed as if finally understanding him, and eased the third one in. The stretch was noticeable now, burning with nothing but spit to lubricate them. Rhys loved it, made him imagine how it would feel if it was Jack inside of him.

He just nee- Rhys let out a breathy moan when Jack canted his fingers just right.

“Good here, cupcake?” He wondered, turning his movements into a violent stabbing against Rhys' prostate. The noises he was letting out were so fucking obscene he was sure he wouldn't be able to look any neighbor in the eyes ever again, “That's it, let it all out cuz you are coming just from that, kitten.”

“Wha- Jack, I can't,” Rhys pleaded.

He heard the CEO snicker, “Not with that attitude.”

But any protests Rhys may have had died when Jack started to eat him out again. Licking his abused hole, nipping the puffy skin and even managing to slip his tongue inside again. It was madness. The assault on his prostate kept going until Rhys was sure he would start to cry.

One touch on his dick and he would-

The sudden explosion of warmth on his lower belly caught him off guard. Rhys bit off a loud cry as he came violently. It shook his whole body, Jack's name surely escaping from his lips while he fingered him through it. The whole thing was so surreal Rhys didn't even try to complain when Jack kept going, tearing small sounds from his over sensitive body.

Jack eventually let him go and Rhys found himself boneless. He rolled to the side, careful to avoid the mess he made, trying to process what he had done. Jack joined his existential crisis.

They stayed there, quiet, until the sweat cooled down against their skin and started to feel prickly. Even if Rhys wanted to talk he was not sure how to even start. It was Jack's phone that broke the silence like a sledgehammer.

“What?” Rhys couldn't help the tug of pride at how Jack sounded, “Tell them it's none of their damn business and to stop freaking out. I... What a bunch of dumabasses, okay. I'll be right there.”

He got up and left.

That was it.

Jack just left not sparing Rhys a single look, closing the door behind him without another word. As if they hadn't just fucked on the living room like animals. As if they hadn't been sexting each other for weeks.

Rhys- Yeah, okay, he was a little surprised. And if he wasn't still trying to understand his life and basking in pure afterglow he would be hurt too. Rhys needed a long bath before he was ready to deal with that shit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still kind of having a major freak out for all the amazing and nice comments and feedback you are all giving me, seriously, love you people so much and believe me when I say you all make my day/week ten times better!! I hope this story can bring you at least a fraction of what you all make me fell <3
> 
> As usual, hmu [ on tumblr ](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/) whenever you wish
> 
> (I still cant fucking believe I wrote a fic where he recognizes a guy by his dick, my mom would be proud)


	7. Mistake

“How was the session, bro?” Vaughn opened the fridge, searching for something edible. It was a sad view.

Rhys had been sitting on the couch, vacant look on his face, for a couple of hours now. After he cleaned up everything he tried to get distracted – movies, games, anything. But it was for nothing, his mind was caught on a loop of Jack Jack Jack.

“Rhys?” Vaughn called again, jumping beside him with a beer and week-old cold pizza.

“Ah! Yeah, yeah, it was... nice, very nice.”

“So that's it, I'll really be seeing your face everywhere I go in some months?” he joked.

Rhys though only gave a brief nod, “Guess so.”

Vaughn frowned, starting to get worried, “You okay, man?”

“Yes,” Rhys agreed, blinking in silence before adding “I fucked Handsome Jack.”

Vaughn gagged on the pizza, launching himself forward on the couch and finally getting Rhys' full attention. He patted his back with the cybernetic hand only to be slapped away by a red-eyed Vaughn.

“Sorry, for a moment I thought I heard you saying you had sex with Handsome Jack,” his voice was strained.

“Yeeeeeeah,” Rhys avoided his eyes, “That's cuz... That's... what happened? Sort of?”

“How do you sort of has sex with him?” Vaughn exclaimed.

“Well, I wouldn't call that _sex_ sex, you know. It was more like, hm, more like I sucked him and he at- uhh, kind of returned the favor” he trailed off with a high pitched laugh, “And we've been sexting without me knowing about it, so... So turns out I have a folder full of Handsome Jack's dick pics.”

Vaughn was looking at him as if he had grown a second head. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, no words coming out.

“I don't know what you are talking about but tell me you didn't do it on the couch,” he pleaded, “Or kitchen. We eat on both places, Rhys.”

“No!” Rhys spluttered, “Of course not, Jesus,” he rubbed his neck and mumbled, “It was on the front door.”

Vaughn seemed about to have a mental breakdown, “I just touched it! You let me touch it!”

“We didn't dirty it,” Rhys protested, wanting to implode.

“Okay,” Vaughn finally regained control himself, “I'm calling Yvette, and you are explaining this- All of this. Because I can't handle it alone.”

Yvette wouldn't let him hear the end of it for years. But Rhys complied, maybe if he talked out loud the situation would start to make some sense.

An hour later, turns out it was still crazy.

“Let's pretend that's all very normal for a moment,” Yvette said from the phone's speakers, trying to be the voice of reason, “So after you two went on the shittiest date ever and had sex he left?”

“Yep.”

“What an _asshole._ I know he is Handsome Jack but who does he think he is?”

Yvette and Vaughn started to badmouth their boss in a beautiful show of loyalty and friendship. Rhys was touched, really, he would be more if he wasn't finally starting to feel the weight of what happened. Jack knew of their conversations, he knew. And he waited until Rhys figured it out by himself.

Until Rhys was on his knees about to suck him off.

Was he being used then? Did Jack only made a move because he knew exactly what Rhys was into and willing to do? Was he also aware of his crush? Was that why he left out of nowhere, because he got what he wanted and that was it? The questions were killing him.

“What am I going to do when I see him again?” Rhys ran his hands through his hair, “I'm so... I don't think I can look him in the eyes anymore. _Never._ And Jack gave me like, zero clues of how to act. I pretend nothing happened? I- I ignore him? What if he fires me for the pictures and...? Do I get on my knees agai-”

“ _Come on_ , bro.”

Yvette smiled on the face time, but it soon dropped as she pondered her next words.

“I don't know, Rhys. Are you even sure you are going to see him again?” he stopped his rambling and paid attention to her, “I mean, alright, he went to visit you today, but maybe that's all he wanted? Don't get this the wrong way but... maybe you won't see Handsome Jack anymore. Sorry.”

Rhys leaned back on the couch, he hadn't thought about that. The idea filled him with both relief and sadness. Spending time with Jack, sex or not, had been... fun. Yeah, fun, idolization pushed aside. But Yvette was right, Rhys was an investment and Jack had already seem him pull his weight.

“Better like that” Rhys muttered, words sounding hollow even for him.

Yvetter regarded him with a long look, “But if, well, you end up meeting him... Let him do the talking first, see how he takes it,” she shrugged, putting on a sly smile, “Best case scenario, make sure he spends his cash on actual useful stuff for us.”

Vaughn nodded, “I'll make a list.”

Rhys threw a pillow on his face. He wasn't feeling better, but it was not all bad either.  
  


 

* * *

 

 

The first paycheck was spent on their overdue rent. The glamour of being a poster-boy. Amazing. Rhys had two more sessions, Jack appeared in none and he tried to tamper down the knot on his throat.

Honestly, he would be over it if they had just fucked. He could live with having amazing sex with his boss. But the whole texting thing was bugging him, Rhys checked the app everyday, too cowardly to send something.

He was doing his best to let it go when he walked into the Marketing floor again, Moxxi called, telling him to 'pass by' after work for a surprise. Rhys was not very sure he'd like that, but he knew better than contradict her.

“Thought you'd never show up, sugar,” she greet him, ECHO on hand. Most of the department was already empty, tired people going home.

Moxxi beckoned him with a finger until he was close enough to spy what she had been looking.

“Those were ready today, figured you'd like a peek.”

It was him. More specifically, his propaganda. Rhys knew he had done a good job on the photoshoots, but that... He flickered from image to image, mouth open. Those were small ads, simple posters with messages like 'Join Hyperion' or 'Apply for the internship of a life time', him hovering in the middle, smiling, cybernetic arm on view. They had managed to make Rhys look sympathetic and attractive at the same time, face amiable but with makeup enough to entice something more. With help of a little photoshop, his ECHO-eye was also glowing in some pictures.

He hadn't realized what they meant by looking Hyperion until that moment.

“We'll change a few things later, but that's the overall look,” Moxxi explained, “They'll be released in a few months, closer to the summer vacations and all. By your hard on I'm assuming you liked, but I still have to ask, darling.”

“Those are incredible,” Rhys admitted, “You did a great job with them, I look...”

“The job was mostly yours, honey. Edition, makeup and hairdo apart, you are the one posing. Guess reality is hitting you now?”

“Something like that.”

Moxxi grinned, not mocking his flustered state.

“Good,” she said, “Cuz we'll test them next week and depending on how well people react,” Moxxi held his face softly, “Your pretty self will be in a lot more than internship ads, sugar.”

“What?” his eyes widened, not bothered by their proximity.

“Special products marketing, magazines, some videos, important Hyperion propaganda, even those motivational posters if it comes to it,” Moxxi rubbed his cheekbone, “Of course we'll need to improve your style, practice more, but sounds good doesn't it, dear?”

Rhys wanted to reply that it sounded god damn wonderful. It may not be the super ranked position in Hyperion he dreamed of, but it was fame nonetheless – and money, shit tons of money. However, he was interrupted by a rude voice:

“Really, Mox? Couldn't keep your hands to yourself until after work?”

His blood turned cold and Rhys could do nothing but stare as Handsome Jack stood there. The man's eyes flickered to his face briefly, before looking at the thin fingers on his cheek and then fixing on Moxxi. The woman, though, made no move to distance herself, widely unimpressed.

“I don't remember it ever being a problem for you, Jack,” she turned back to Rhys, “Am I making you uncomfortable, sugar?”

Rhys' adam's apple bobbed up and down, he couldn't even begin to guess what he should say. He opted for the truth.

“Uh, no?”

“See,” Moxxi's fingers caressed his face, “I'm not going to break him.”

“I'm more worried about you sucking his soul, you old witch,” Jack's words were the same mocking as usual around the Head of Marketing, but for once Rhys was shocked to hear actual venom there.

“Rhys is a big boy,” she smirked, letting go of him nonetheless, “He can decide about the sucking without your opinion, Jack.”

The ice on Jack's eyes was new for Rhys, and he stepped away from Moxxi just to be sure he wouldn't get caught in the crossfire of whatever was going down. He really should leave, yet he couldn't force himself to do it. Apparently the weeks they spent without seeing each other only increased Rhys' fucking thirst for him.

“Just give me the damn contract so I can go home,” Jack demanded.

Moxxi pulled a collection of papers from her purse and handed simply. Jack got them and walked away, leaving Rhys behind with a dumbfounded expression. He wouldn't have moved if Moxxi hadn't pushed him forward.

“You'll miss your ride, sugar.”

Jack only side-eyed him when he entered the elevator, all nerves. While the doors closed, ever so slow, Rhys was already regretting following the CEO. The tension seemed to pierce his brain and, alright, Yvette told him to wait for Jack to take the first step but the man seemed nowhere near doing it.

Rhys took a deep breath, he could do it. Jack may have not talked with him, but he hadn't been happy with Moxxi touching him so... maybe. A big, fat, maybe, Jack was jealous. Of him. It was such a far fetched idea yet he was clinging to it.

Also, sex or not, Rhys didn't want that awkward air between them anymore. It was now or never.

“How have you been?” He immediately wanted to pound his head on the wall.

Jack didn't quite ignored him, but it was not the full attention Rhys had gotten used to. He couldn't blame him, the CEO looked about to drop dead even with the mask covering any trace of exhaustion.

“Elevator small talk, really?” Rhys shrugged, “Aw, Rhysie, you can do better than that.”

He continued, encouraged by the petname, “Actually, I wanted to talk. I, uh, I just... I don't know how to act. After what happened. I- I'm not expecting anything I just don't want it to be weird. Or to, like, affect work and, you know.”

Rhys wanted to ask about their conversations too, but when Jack finally looked straight at him he couldn't. That unreadable expression made him want to cower.

“Look,” Jack's voice had that careless intonation as always, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad, “Don't get me wrong, kiddo, I had a lot- a _lot_ of fun. You are a cute little thing and actually made it worth my time – kudos for you, by the way. But, how do I say this, it was a mistake if I ever made one.”

Rhys curled his hand, as if it would somehow absorb part of the impact. What the-

“Here's the thing, I don't really have to explain myself to you buuut I kind of feel I owe you. Kind of,” Jack had the decency of not touching him, “I don't screw employees. Anymore, at least. Lot of trouble, bad press, not really worth it, mind blowing sex or not,” he gesture between them, “So why don't we just totally forget that ever happened? No hard feelings, eh, buttercup?”

Rhys wanted to punch that mask off. He wanted to ask so many things. He wanted to accuse the man of not thinking about bad press when his dick was being sucked.

Instead, Rhys put a polite smile, hoping Jack couldn't smell his bullshit.

“I get it. No problem.”

But Jack always did. The CEO sighed, reaching out for him.

“Rhys-”

The universe wanted him to keep a scrap of dignity, so the doors choose that moment to open with an unnerving happy sound. Rhys stepped away from Jack's range, cheeks aching from the strain.

“Gotta go.”

If Jack made another move to catch him, Rhys didn't see or care. He walked home, each step slouching his shoulders and deepening the pit of shame inside him. God, he felt so stupid. So fucking dumb.

But, most of all, used.

Rhys looked at his arm, wondering if that had been some sick game of catch to a rich guy. Jack was bored, decided to use him as a past-time and then... Then called it a mistake. A mistake would've been making out drunk on a party. What they did was... was...

Jesus, Rhys had actually thought he had a chance with Handsome Jack. It was worse than being accused of sleeping his way to the top.

He opened his apartment's door, guts clutched tight.

“Hey,” Vaughn turned his attention to him and frowned at Rhys' state, but waited for him to continue, “What do you think about marathoning movies until we pass out on the couch?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can I just say I love all of you and your comments and kudos give me life??? Cuz hell yeah, they do!!! Sorry if it was a short chapter maybe I'll post the next one tomorrow, today was kinda bad and messy <3
> 
> You all know, [ hmu ](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/) if you wanna talk or send a prompt, you cuties


	8. Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy mother's day if you have a good mom!!! And if you don't, I'm your mom today, take a jacket with you it's going to be cold

“Daddy, you are not listening!”

Jack startled, Angel was frowning at him. He put on a smile and ruffled her hair.

“Sorry, sweetheart, daddy's kinda tired. What you blabbing about?”

She huffed and pushed his hand away, ready to complain, but her eyes dropped to the ECHO on Jack's lap. He had been staring at Rhys' ads, they turned out good. No, pretty great, way better than Jack had expected, yet he couldn't look at them without recalling Rhys arched below him, moaning into his arm like he was physically unable to stay quiet. Which made him remember the kid's crestfallen face hours earlier. The psychological equivalent of a cold shower.

It shouldn't bother Jack. He dumped more than his fair share of people, most of which had some level of obsession with him and some of which had cried. He was used to letting others down, he didn't care about it – sometimes it was even funny. Also, his decision was set: messing around with employees was too much work. But seeing Rhys' put on that fake smile was more unnerving than enduring Moxxi caressing his face.

“Who is he?” Angel's eyes sparkled.

Jack raised an eyebrow at her sudden interest, “He is our new model. Why the face, kid?”

“His arm is so cool,” she marveled, “He looks like a prince.”

Oh, no.

Jack saw that expression before, Angel had it on every time she talked about a girl from her old school, or when she looked at that guy Zack something. The singing one she made Jack sit and watch once a month.

She was crushing. On Rhys.

“I gave him the arm actually, so I guess half the credit is mine, huh?”

Angel didn't acknowledge Jack again, she scrolled through the ads as if had found a new god. Jack couldn't believe it, but he couldn't bring himself to take it away. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion.

“Seriously, munchkin, _him_?” Jack tried.

She was visibly offended, “He is pretty!”

“Ehhhh,” he couldn't hide his smile when she slapped his arm, “Yeah, alright, alright. He is. Super dork though.”

Jack would remember that for the rest of his days. He was definitely going to use it as blackmail during Angel's teenage years too.

“You know him?” she gasped.

“Sweetheart, please, daddy knows everyone.”

“Dad,” Angel grabbed his shoulders, suddenly serious, “Can I met him?”

“Woah, woah, let's just... Backtrack for a sec, alright,” He made her sit down again. Instantly the image of his encounter with Rhys flashing on his mind, “I don't think that's a good idea.”

Angel was jumping on the same spot, obviously fixed on the grandness of her plan, “Please, please, please, dad,” she whined, “I don't have school next week, pleeeease! I just wanna see him.”

Jack was ready to say no, but she was giving her the damn blue puppy eyes. And he was a weak man.

“I already did all my homework and Ms. Springs said I'm the best in class, please, daddy!”

_So_ weak and Angel knew. That girl could smell him faltering from a mile long. Jack couldn't also help but feel like he owed her for the last months, no matter how quiet she stayed he knew she was still upset about the whole school thing.

“Angel...”

“Come on, dad!”

Oh that was such a bad idea. He doubted Rhys wanted to look on his direction after his allegedly dick move. Jack for sure was not eager to face him again, but he couldn't say no to his daughter just because he upset the guy.

Jack groaned, “Fine. Whatever, you little devil,” Angel squealed happily, “I'm taking you to work and if we _happen_ to find Rhys, you two get to talk, alright?”

“Helios is huge, that's not fair,” she pouted. Jack smirked and flickered her nose.

“I don't play fair, kid.”

Before going to sleep, Jack's fingers lingered above Company Man for a long time.

 

* * *

 

Jack prided himself in knowing his daughter very well. So he wasn't exactly happy when he left her on his office alone for a _minute_ only to come back to an empty chair. He shouldn't have let Wilhelm take that day off.

Here's the thing about dads, they really don't like losing their children. And Jack, well, let be said Jack would burn down Helios himself if something happened to Angel.

Took two minutes and thirty seconds for Jack to move the whole security team and gain access of the cameras, and he still thought it was too long.

“I pay you to protect a whole building and you are telling me you can't find an eight year old girl?” Jack snarled on his comm, stomping into the elevator and searching the footage on his ECHO. He would put the whole building in lockdown and search floor by floor himself if needed.

“Sir, we haven't exactly been trained for this type of situation,” the man on the line answered, not trying to hide his irritation. As if he was in a position to talk like that.

“Hope you've been trained to get fired, cuz I have a surprise for you, asshole,” Jack hissed, “Put the next guy on the line before I decide to throw you off my window too. And you'll never guess which is my floor.”

The man spluttered, angry and there was the loud sound of the comm being forcibly removed from him.

“The idiot's out of here,” A new voice answered, sounding, at least, more sure and obedient than the previous guy.

“Going to give you the chance of a lifetime, cupcake: you have an hour to find my daughter and keep the job of the dickbag before you, or you can pack your stuff and follow him,” Jack turned it off without waiting for an answer.

He was halfway searching the cafeteria – scared employees looking at him from the corners – when the comm ringed again. Jack almost gave himself whiplash by how fast he picked it up.

“You better say the magic words or don't even bother breathing.”

“Yeah, apparently there is a child on the seventh floor. I don-”

Jack threw it over his shoulder, all but running again. He could see nothing on the cameras, but Angel was small and any of those stupid cubicles would cover her. Jack really hoped the guard wasn't giving a bottomless tip, for his own sake as a human being. He would appreciate a punching bag on that moment.

He didn't even bother checking what department it was or caring about the surprised gasps around him. Jack only needed to walk so far before finding Angel crouched next to a paper shredder. The relief almost knocked him off his feet.

“ _Angel_ ,” Jack called, harsher than he'd like by the scared jump it caused on his daughter.

He lowered himself to her level, checking to see if there were any injuries. No, his baby girl was safe. Jack took that moment to frown at her, not trying to mask how pissed off he was.

“What were you thinking?” He grabbed her arms, trying his best to be gentle “Wondering around friggin' Helios alone! What if something happened to you, huh? You don't even have a comm or a map or- God dammit, Angel!”

She let her head fall forward, rubbing her little hands together.

“I'm sorry, daddy,” Angel said, flinching, “I was bored and... I'm sorry. I promise I won't do it again.”

Jack willed his nerves down. He didn't like to be angry in front of her, no matter if it was her fault. The last thing he wanted was for his daughter to fear him too. With a sigh, he planted a tense kiss on her forehead before getting up, “You better.”

A blond security guard appeared, looking just as relieved as them, “Oh, good, you found her,” Jack recognized his voice from the comm.

He read the nametag, Axton, and Jack decided to ignore that weird ass name, “Congrats, buddy, you just got yourself a promotion with,” he checked the clock, uncaring “Twelve minutes left. Get better.”

One part of him wished the guy had exceeded that time, just so Jack would have someone to throw his rage. Now he would need to bottle it all up for the rest of the day or until someone else decided to screw up in front of him. He hoped for the later.

The guard nodded unperturbed, “Aim to please.”

They were both stopped short when Angel grabbed Jack's pants, gasping loudly. And because his day couldn't be simple, there stood the person who had been haunting his mind for weeks. Rhys was coming out of a room with an armful of paper and staring at the spectacle in front of him like the rest of the office.

Jack was almost sure Angel had planned that and he would be impressed if it wasn't his own daughter. Neither of them said anything, and Jack looked down to see his girl trying to hide behind him.

“Are you serious?” Jack arched an eyebrow, “You make all this trouble to go starstruck? Come on now, munchkin, we both know you are better than that.”

He nudged her forward, it wasn't very effective given Angel was as stiff as a floor board. Her big eyes were focused on Rhys and despite the whole uncomfortable atmosphere Jack really wish he was recording all that.

“Didn't you want to tell him something, sweetheart?” He encouraged.

Angel was frozen and Rhys, thankfully, noticed that.

“Hi,” he tried, smiling lightly, obviously putting an effort and keeping his confusion concealed “My name's Rhys, nice to meet you...?”

Jack watched as his little girl's face went aflame and she leaned to shake Rhys' hand.

“Angel,” she muttered.

“Angel, that's a beautiful name,” Rhys complimented, then he noticed her attention on his bionic limb, “Do you wanna touch it?”

She nodded and the young man crouched down, juggling his stuff and stretching his cybernetic arm forward. Angel hesitated at first, but them she was running her fingers through the metal, obviously fascinated.

“You don't need to drool on him for it, kid,” Jack broke the spell before he started to fall for it too, “Already told you that's one hundred percent on me.”

Rhys shot him a dirty look and he grinned.

“You like cybernetics, Angel?”

“Yes!”

“Alright, check this out,” Rhys turned his ECHO-eye on, letting Angel admire the glow. Then he opened his palm and projected the girl's image, transferred in real time from his implant.

Jack could practically see the heart shaped pupils on her. Great. She opened up after that and they started to chat enthusiastically, it was disgustingly sweet. Jack needed to turn his eyes from the scene because it was doing stuff to his insides, stuff he didn't want to analyze ever and had nothing to do with his anger. Only to find the security guard still standing there, shamelessly ogling Rhys.

That also did some powerful stuff, but not the mushy kind.

“You lost something?” he growled, which was not a smart move.

Rhys raised his head, finally noticing they weren't alone and that Axton existed. Worse, he gave a small, shy smile at the guy and Jack's eyebrow twitched.

“On the contrary,” Axton wasn't even trying to fake it, returning the smile.

“Don't you have work to do? Old ladies to scare and water coolers to patrol?” Jack bit out.

“Yes, sir. Going now.”

The son of a taint had the audacity of looking back, winking at Rhys. If his daughter wasn't present he wouldn't have hesitated in tear him apart for the kicks of it. But whatever, none of his business. Jack didn't care. He was just stressed out after hunting down Angel on that Goliath of a building. He didn't care at all about the slight blush creeping on Rhys' cheeks.

“Alright, sweetheart, let's go,” Jack gently pulled her away, “Daddy has a lot of work to catch on after what you pulled.”

“But you said I could talk to Rhys if I found him,” Angel protested.

“Uh... what now?”

Jack ruffled his daughter's hair, ignoring her yelp and Rhys' puzzled face. Time to make her pay a little, “Baby girl here is your number one fan, pumpkin. Saw your new ads and was just-”

“Dad, stop!” she shrieked, trying to cover his mouth but not even coming close to his neck.

Jack didn't even try to pretend she was bothering him, “-so in love with your face. Wouldn't leave me alone until I agreed to let her come and see you live in all your stupid greatness.”

Angel was positively dying of mortification by then, a sign Jack's work as a dad was done. Rhys though, shifted on his feet, uncertain of what to do.

“Well,” he tried, apparently having an idea, “I can't leave my number one fan hanging. And since you look so smart and loves cybernetics maybe I can let you in a little secret I have.”

Angel peeked from between her fingers. Even Jack had to admit he was curious to where that was leading.

“Can I trust you with my super secret, Angel?” Rhys asked with a fake serious expression.

“Yeah,” Angel slowly uncovered her face, nodding with growing energy, “Yes, yes, you can, Rhys! What is it?”

“Wait here,” Rhys left for a minute, leaving behind a kid that looked just about to explode with tension. He came back without papers and a box, he opened it revealing an old, yellow cybernetic hand to Jack's surprise “You see, this used to be part of my old arm,” Rhys explained in a low voice, “But I had to tear it apart to put some super cool new upgrades nobody can now about. And if your... dad agrees,” he sent Jack a faltering glance, “I'd like you to take it home for a few days so that nobody can find it here. What do you think, Angel, can you handle this mission?”

She was bouncing with excitement, fingers clenching to get the box from him. It seemed almost painful for her to tear her gaze away and look up at Jack, supplicant.

“Do whatever you want,” he shrugged, hiding his unease “Not my body on the line.”

“I can totally handle it,” Angel agreed. Rhys smiled at her and handed he box, putting a finger on his lips to indicate silence. Angel immediately followed his example, lowering the volume of her freak out.

Jack had never felt so intrusive in a scene that involved his own daughter. That needed to stop. He grabbed her head and pushed Angel forward.

“Alright, weirdo, come on.”

Rhys waved at Angel one last time, and Jack could count on his hands the number of people apart from him that could make Angel so happy. It never occurred to him he hadn't exchanged a single word to Rhys the whole time, no actual conversation between them. So he nodded, shooting him a smirk.

“Thanks, Rhysie. Don't blame me when you only get a piece of scrap back.”

“She got this,” Rhys didn't answer him with his usual expressiveness, but at least it wasn't the ugly facade he put on the elevator.

Baby steps, Jack told himself, not really sure what he was moving towards anymore. He hummed to himself, unaware of his sudden calm.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I don't know you all but I love Angel and She Deserved Better. So making baby Angel happy is my way of fixing the whole shitstorm that is Borderlands 
> 
> Also, I know it's probably boring to hear it every chapter but I'm gonna say it anyways, you are all incredible and each time I see a new kudo or comment or message I seriously let out a little scream, you all bring joy to my lil old heart! So, you know, [ hmu (hit me up inside) ](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/) ok i'll stop


	9. Axton

Rhys stared at the group chat – Skag Dipshits, thanks Sasha – and the onslaught of messages. His friends were excited about going to some new club and Rhys was not going to argue. Specially when they were pointing August to be the driver for a change.

He was hanging around empty corridors a lot lately. Specially since Vasquez's rumors took root when they saw him with Angel. Rhys wouldn't have cared so much about them if he was actually sleeping with Jack.

The whole thing was still so surreal for him, he didn't even know Jack had a kid. He'd done his best to not die of embarrassment while talking to the daughter of the guy who fucked him. Rhys' questions piled up, how he didn't knew that, who was Angel's mom, where was she, what's Jack's deal... It went on and on and he'd rather ignore them forever. He'd rather ignore Jack forever.

He reclined against the wall when another notification appeared. An email.

_From: Moxxi M._

_Subject: News_

_Hello, sugar. I forgot to tell you, but the group had a hard on for your pretty face, just like I said. Looks like we'll be seeing a lot more of each other._

_Go treat yourself, buy some (good) new clothes, next step are product ads. I'll send the details later xoxo_

Rhys blinked stupidly at it, rereading just to be sure he was right. Shit, so the poster-boy thing was official now. He could barely keep the happiness from his face.

“Does this usually work?”

He hadn't even noticed the man in front of him. It was a security guard with short blond hair and a lopsided grin, Rhys thought he had seen him somewhere before.

“What work?” he asked instead, trying to remember.

“Hanging around corridors looking cute. Do people fall for that?”

“Well,” Rhys cocked his head, “You are here, aren't you?”

That was the right answer by the man's laugh, he stopped to point at his nametag, “Axton. You probably don't remember but-”

“Oh! You were the guard with Angel last week, right?”

“Yep. And you were the reason the girl stormed off,” Axton put a hand against the wall, “I mean, I can totally see _why._ ”

His once over wasn't subtle at all, and Rhys caught himself enjoying the attention way more than he should. It had been a while since someone flirted with him so blatantly and didn't make him roll his eyes. Since... Alright, since Handsome Jack.

“Can I get a name to match?” Axton asked.

“Yeah, it's-”

“Rhys!” A voice that didn't belong to a grow man interrupted as if on cue.

Both adults watched as the little girl ran down the corridor, stopping in front of them unsure but beaming anyway. Following not far behind, came Jack unhurried.

“Hey, Angel,” Rhys greeted, adding after a beat of hesitation, “Jack. What's up?”

“Slacking off work, kitten?” Jack tsked, “What would the big boss say if he saw you?”

Rhys rolled his eyes, “I'm on a break, talking with Axton.”

The guard waved at them, “Yeah, but I am not,” he pushed himself off the wall, “Gotta go. Nice catching up with you, Rhys.”

“Wait,” Rhys called, spurred by the moment. The guy was really hot, willing and Rhys was not about to let him go and let luck join them together again in such a colossal building. Probably he should be bashful in front of his small audience, but secretly the thought of Jack watching was riveting, “So, uh, I don't know if that's your thing but there is a new club opening near the center and I'll be going tonight with some friends. If you decide to show up it would be nice. Very nice. If you want, of course.”

He let out a nervous chuckle and to his pleasure Axton didn't looked at him like he was a nerd, “I know where it is. Consider your first drink paid,” he grinned and left.

Rhys would not care about tapping that.

“Woah, somebody's popular and the ads aren't even out yet,” Jack mused, sounding every bit as bored as he was trying to look, “Did we interrupt your hunting, tiger?”

“You are terrible,” Rhys countered, trying to not show he was getting flustered.

“Says the guy who just scored a hot date with G.I. Joe.”

Seeing Jack was determined to act like a sourpuss, Rhys turned his attentions to Angel.

“Your dad always this grumpy?”

“He was fine before,” she frowned at said father, eyes gleaming with mischief, “He is just mad someone else finds you pretty.”

Rhys was taken aback, “Oh?”

Angel nodded, “Dad told me you were a 'super dork' but very pretty.”

His heart skipped a beat, but Rhys tried to keep his posture, “Did he say anything else?”

“Okay,” Jack interrupted as Angel opened her mouth again, “Very funny you two, real cute. What did daddy said about lying, munchkin?”

“But I'm not!”

“Just- Just do what you came here to do,” Jack ushered her, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Rhys was really glad the man wasn't looking at him because he could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks. It was no big deal, Jack was always saying stuff about his appearance, even when they weren't flirting.

Except every thing is a big fucking deal when you have a massive crush on a guy that made pretty clear he wants nothing do to with you. And kept showing up on your life. Rhys was doing his best to not keep that weird, but fate was not cooperating.

Angel took a familiar box from her backpack and gave it to Rhys, “Here, I kept it a secret. Nobody found out,” she whispered.

Rhys smiled, she was too damn cute, “Knew I could count on you. You'd be a great secret agent, Angel.”

She giggled, “Can you have lunch with us?”

Jack froze, and so did Rhys.

“I- Uh, I,” he said very articulated, “I don't know, Angel. Is your dad okay with this?” Please don't be, he prayed.

Rhys didn't saw the visual, silent fight they were obviously having, too busy staring at his own shoes. But he heard Jack's sigh and Angel yelp of happiness and knew who had won.

“You better like hamburgers, pumpkin.”

 

* * *

 

 

The lunch was not half of the disaster Rhys had expected. Alright, it started weird since they would eat on Jack's office and the place was every inch as intimidating as ever, with an even scarier guy guarding the doors.

“That's Wilhelm,” Angel explained, the scary man grunted “He's my bodyguard.”

Rhys decided to not ask more about it, even though it earned Jack a very arched eyebrow. Thankfully, the weird didn't last with Angel talking enough for all of them. Rhys found out she was eight, wanted to be an Engineer or a fairy and was basically a damn prodigy – what else to expect from Jack's child.

The whole concept of he being a dad was still so surreal. Rhys was blown away by how Jack would stop to clean whatever mess Angel made, telling her to eat well and helping each time she got shy again. He was almost gentle, in a way. And gentleness was something he never expected from Handsome Jack.

The pure, unmasked fondness on his eyes hit something inside Rhys he wasn't aware of before. Oh, God, he was supposed to get over him, not melt because he had a paternal side of all things.

Rhys was so screwed.

One time, Jack caught him staring while he straightened Angel's dress.

“Looking is free, Rhysie. It's okay, I know it's hard not to.”

He huffed in exasperation, “I was trying to look past you but your ego is blocking the view.”

Jack made a hurt face, “Ouch. You saying there is something better to look at than my ego, pumpkin?”

“The list goes on and on, Jack.”

It was good and terrible, having Jack talk to him like nothing happened. Rhys had to remind himself of he word 'mistake' and to act like the damn professional he was. So, okay, Jack pulled a major dick move on him, but he could try to get over that. He needed to. Fucking or not, Rhys would like to maintain the project of a friendship they had.

It was hard when Jack smiled at him like that though.

“Thanks, Rhys,” Angel's cheeks reddened when they were done “You are really cool.”

“I wouldn't say 'cool', but meeeh,” Jack made a noise, “More like dweeb. But points for effort, sweetheart.”

Rhys shook his head, “I thought you said I was dorky and pretty.”

Jack frowned, crossing his arms, “Yeah, well, kitten, you are really good in changing my opinion. By the way, heard the news about your ads, congrats. Consider the cheeseburger like a 'you sort of did it' gift.”

“I paid for it, but thank you, I guess,” He smiled back at Angel, ignoring the faint déjà vu “Come by more often, maybe I'll have new missions for you.”

Rhys left with a last look at Angel's toothy grin. She was holding Jack's hand, Rhys decided to not check his face.

  
  


“What do you mean you went out again?” Fiona exclaimed on the bar next to him.

Rhys shook his head, passing a hand through his hair as all his friends watched him in different states of 'what the fuck man'. He deserved that.

“It was not like that,” he rushed to explain, “Not like last time, Angel was with us. It was her idea actually.”

“His _daughter_?” Sasha slapped the table, drinking up her beer, “Oh, man, this just gets worse and worse. Keep talking.”

“Wait,” Yvette raised a hand, “So you two didn't...?”

“No!”

“Thank God, that would've been gross, man” August quipped, shrugging when Rhys frowned at him.

“Okay, so you two hung out again. I don't get it, bro, what's the big deal?” Vaughn laughed, “It's not like you are into him,” There was a long stretch filled by the club music “You are not. Right? You- You are not into Handsome Jack for real. _Rhys_?”

Rhys groaned, sipping his overly colorful drink. He prayed the sugar would wash his shame.

“It's okay, Rhys,” Yvette rubbed his back soothingly, “We all had our share of misplaced crushes.”

“Not like Handsome fucking Jack though,” Fiona added, raising her eyebrows, “Sorry, Rhys, but wow. I'm not surprised, but wow.”

“All you need,” continued Yvette, giving her a pointed look, “Is to get your mind off him. This place is full, I'm sure there will be someone after you in no time.”

“Thanks.”

After that they didn't discuss Rhys lack of a love life again, to his happiness. The new club was a cool place, dark with glowing purple and blue lights and a great DJ. Rhys was actually having fun, even though his night was definitely not going like Yvette promised. He observed his friends dancing crazily against each other on the floor, Fiona already walking away with some random girl.

He startled a little when someone grabbed his shoulder. Rhys turned ready to send a creep off but was meet with Axton sitting on the stool next to him.

“You came.”

“Told you I was going to be around,” Axton gave the two empty glasses in front of him a look, “My bad, looks like I'm too late for that promise.”

Rhys smiled, preening under the attention, “I'm sure you can make it up to me.”

Axton seemed eager to do it. He was a fun man, even if he let out kind of a jockey vibe, and Rhys caught himself honestly laughing more than once. They spent a good time just drinking and talking, and at one point Yvette gave him two thumbs up from the dancing floor.

“Your friend?” Axton asked to what Rhys only nodded, “Wanna go join them?”

Rhys chuckled, feeling just the right side of tipsy from the cocktails, “You don't really wanna see me dancing.”

Axton grinned, “Good, cuz I suck too. Hey, I know that's only a first date and everything, but you are really fucking pretty, so... What do you say we go to somewhere quieter?”

Rhys stopped, biting his lip and trying to cut past the haze and think if that was a good idea. The words 'first date' sent an odd shiver through him and, well, he couldn't say he didn't want to.

“Alright, yeah,” the winning smile Axton gave him only made him surer, “I'll just warn my friends and we can go.”

It was hard finding them on the crowd, even more talking above the blasting electronic music in their drunken ears. But Rhys managed in the end – with Sasha screaming he was going to get laid and Vaughn telling him to send a text every half an hour. August, the poor sober bastard, shooed him away.

Rhys dragged Axton to the front, excitement curling on his stomach. When they exited the club, their ears still ringing and the outside looking oddly colored, Rhys had half a second before getting pinned on the nearest wall. Axton was nicer than he expected though, looking at him and waiting to be pushed away, so Rhys grabbed his neck and closed the distance himself.

It was a good kiss, toe curling good. Axton's stubble felt amazing against him and his tongue wasted no time before plunging into Rhys' mouth. It was hot, messy and exactly what he was looking for. He didn't even care about the people who whistled at them.

Axton's hands wandered on his body, never going past his waist though. He grabbed the nape of Rhys neck and bent his head back, deepening the kiss. Damn, he had missed that. It was not rough like Jack but-

And then, on the next second, it wasn't so good anymore. Rhys would blame the drink, because when Axton pressed a leg between his all the pleasure drained away. He tried to keep going, pulling him closer, but the previous enjoyment had been replaced by pure discomfort.

Rhys broke the kiss and thank fuck Axton got the message.

“Something wrong?” God dammit he sounded concerned too, Rhys felt like shit.

“No, I- Yes, but it's not you,” he flinched, “I'm sorry I... Look, I changed my mind, I'm not feeling very well. I think one of the drinks didn't settle.”

Axton patted his shoulder with a small smile, “Hey, no problem. Do you want something? I can take you home.”

“No, it's okay, I'll stay outside and wait for my friends,” Rhys sighed, “Shit, I'm sorry for blowing this up, I was really having fun.”

“Me too,” Axton didn't look bothered, “You only got to be sad if we don't give this a repeat.”

Rhys could feel his face burning with shame, he had just left the guy hanging and he wanted a second date. He was the worst, “I'd like that.”

Axton asked him two more times if he'd be fine and Rhys answered feeling worse every time. When the man was finally convinced, he went back inside, wishing he'd be well soon. If Rhys wasn't on the middle of the street he would've curled down on himself, so he just covered his eyes with his hands. The chilly air was not enough to calm his nerves.

He wished he really was sick, at least he could just throw up and feel better.

Nobody paid him much attention, and neither did he. So Rhys only noticed a car had stopped in front of him when came the call:

“Rhys?”

Shit, cock, fuck. Rhys winced because that was a nightmare. The last voice – counting Vasquez – he wanted to hear and he hoped he had imagined it. He couldn't be _that_ unlucky...

“I can see your arm, pumpkin. What you doing standing there like an idiot?”

He groaned, spying through his fingers to see Handsome Jack sitting on another expensive looking car. At least that one wasn't yellow.

“Go away,” Rhys mumbled.

“Go aw- Are you freaking drunk?”

Not enough for this conversation, Rhys thought. He should just go back to the club, but he could end up finding Axton and that was out of question. With his lack of answer, Jack squinted at him:

“You look weird. What crap have you been pumping on your body?”

“I didn't drug myself if that's what you are saying,” Rhys protested, finally letting his arms fall, “Jack, just go, I'm not in the mood.”

Jack considered him for a moment before opening the passenger’s door, “Get in.”

“What?”

“Get in, kiddo, I'm taking you home. You are a damn accident waiting to happen and Angel would kill me if I let you die in an alley” he huffed impatiently.

Rhys couldn't deny he wanted nothing more than jump on his bed and sleep forever. But the idea of getting into Jack's car again was a very, very bad one.

“I don't know.”

Jack rolled his eyes, “God, Rhys, I'm not going to sell your organs and dump you on a river. Seriously, though, you have ten seconds before I pick you up myself.”

Rhys glared at him. Jack raised his hands, slowly lowering each finger one by one. He was wiggling his eyebrows, three left when Rhys groaned and stomped into the car. Just to make his displeasure more apparent, he crossed his arms too.

“Atta boy,” Jack praised, “If you throw up I'm dropping you in another city.”

“Not going to,” Rhys mumbled.

“Yeah, your face just screams healthy,” Jack snickered, then, after a long minute of silence, “I'm guessing your date didn't went so well.”

“None of your business,” Rhys retorted, smashing his face against the cold glass, “But it was good,” he not-really-lied, “Axton is amazing.”

“That so?” Jack hissed, “Your idea of a good time is pretty weird if it ends with you playing thief magnet.”

“Why do you care?” Rhys snapped.

“Just saying you can get better stuff, pumpkin,” Jack tried to play, but his voice was strained and prickly all over.

“Oh, so putting your nose into _who_ your employees fuck is okay when it isn't you then?” Rhys barely processed what he said for a moment. When it sunk, he wanted to jump out of the car. But he also wanted to stay and rub it on Jack's face.

Jack's stupid, handsome face.

To his shock, he didn't reply and Rhys had to gulp down his urge to apologize. No matter how petty he sounded, he was right. He may be in an okay-ish place with Jack thanks to his daughter, but the CEO overstepped.

The rest of the ride was dead quiet, not even the radio to fill it. Rhys made sure to exit the car as fast as possible and tried not to get hold up about how Jack still remembered his address.

“Thanks,” Rhys didn't look back.

“Hey,” called Jack, stopping him from going any further.

He wanted to slap himself for how much he wanted to hear him out. Rhys was not willing to deal with that yet, so he murmured a 'good night' and forced his legs to move. The sound of the car's wheels burning on the concrete was just the final hit.

Rhys only kicked his shoes off before falling on his bed. He sent a quick text to Vaughn explaining he wasn't going to die so soon, unfortunately. Then, without noticing, he had opened his conversation with 'John'.

Jack hadn't deleted his account. Rhys knew it was none of his business hut he was caught imagining him talking with infinite other anonymous people, having his share of fun just like he had with Rhys. Maybe it was like a sport to Jack and when one of the strangers turned out to be his employee he regretted later.

Rhys deleted the stupid app once and for all – throwing the ECHO far for good measure – and went to sleep feeling like shit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who is the dumbass who forgot to post this until the last minute cuz got distracted listening to music and reading old fanfic? [ this one ](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/) (so sorry btw, but it's here as promised hell yeah hope you guys enjoyed the DRAMA cuz there is a lot more coming)


	10. Donuts

Rhys had barely stepped into his floor when all eyes were on him. He pretended not to notice and walked with his chin high, only to be stopped by – yes, you got it – Vasquez. The man bumped on shoulder, giving a nasty smile.

“Hey, pal, looking tired. Had a long night, did you?”

He did. Sneezing, rolling around on bed and praying he wouldn't come down with something.

“You are starting early today, Vasquez.”

But the man wasn't bothered, “So is your owner.”

Rhys arched an eyebrow, puzzled.

“I wonder if you'll try to look surprised when he gives you a promotion too,” Vasquez said loud enough for the people around to hear, “What are you aiming for? A place on the board? VP? Should try for his PA, Rhys, bet he would like to have you on his office all day.”

Rhys ignored him and turned the corner, seeing what the commotion was about. There was a box of donuts on his desk, the one from the pricey bakery across the street. Rhys looked around, trying to find a note or the sign of a mistake, only to come across a drawing. It was childlike and weirdly colorful, but Rhys could see that was him. Shiny blue eye and chrome arm with a pair of abnormal long legs.

His heart doubled in size when he saw, scribbled on the back:

_Angel told me to give you this_

He stared at it dumbly for a second. Rhys was sure Angel didn't tell Jack to buy him donuts too, so maybe it was his way of apologizing. He could imagine Jack arriving before him, dropping it on his desk with a grumpy look, giving early workers a heart attack.

Vasquez could say whatever he wanted, Rhys was too busy smiling around a donut and admiring the drawing tapped to his wall.

He should wait and share them with Vaughn or Yvette but... they felt a little private. And were pretty damn good. He could feel the sweetness breaking his bad mood, dragging him from the moping pit he had spent his entire weekend on.

Without anger to block his thoughts, Rhys was ready to admit he had also been kind of a dick. It wouldn't hurt to do something for Jack too. Rhys replayed all their previous conversations, trying to find any clue of what he liked. And, damn, for a guy that couldn't shut up he never revealed any personal info. Great.

That's how he ended up standing awkwardly in front of Jack's doors holding a coffee. His secretary didn't even spared Rhys a glance, obviously used to unsolicited people showing up.

“Handsome Jack is busy,” she simply said.

“Alright, uh,” Rhys slowly put the coffee on the corner of her desk, feeling like a douche, “Can you give this to him, please?” She waved him away, but nodded, “Thanks.”

The situation's uneasiness increased when the elevator left without him and Rhys had to stand there, quiet, waiting. He was seriously considering facing the stairs when it arrived, the doors opening with the sound of salvation.

And Jack was there.

The man had a calm smile, no mask on. It faltered a little when he saw Rhys staring shamelessly at him.

“Uh,” he hesitated, walking without his usual strut, “I know what you are probably thinking.”

Rhys had no idea what he was thinking. He looked back at the secretary and she seemed unperturbed by it all, which, alright, maybe she was used to lying to people about Jack's presence. But... looking back at the man, he was just as awkward as Rhys and not exhaling a drop of his usual presence. If there was something he knew is that no matter how rude and weird Jack acted, he always managed to make _other_ people feel uncomfortable.

“You are not Jack are you?” Rhys risked.

Not-Jack sighed in relief, “Nope. Name's Timothy and you are cute. I mean- You, hm, you are... Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I wasn't going to actually say it out loud, shit,” his freckled cheeks blushed.

The whole thing was so opposed to Jack's normal behavior, Rhys felt instantly better. He shook the man's hand.

“It's fine. I'm Rhys. Sorry if I scared you back there, it's just... You know.”

“No problem,” Timothy' lips quirked up, “I'm used to it. Being twins with a famous guy and all. You would be surprised by the number of paparazzi.”

He winced in sympathy, “That must be rough.”

“Well, once I scored twenty bucks cuz I guy wanted a selfie with me so has it's perks.”

Rhys smiled, silently wondering how the fuck he ended up in a Universe where Jack has a good twin and an adorable daughter. They looked at each other for a long time, until Rhys cleaned his throat and pointed at the elevator behind Timothy. He tried to mask his amusement while the man stumbled aside mumbling a litany of 'sorrys'.

“Nice to meet you,” Rhys was doing his best to contain his face splitting smile.

“Yeah, nice, definitely.” Timothy waved at him dumbly, giving a smirk that was all but Jack.

Rhys stayed put for a good whole minute chewing his new discovery, then he remembered he didn't put a name on the coffee. Shit. Jack must receive unwanted things from strangers all day, he would just throw it on the trash without a second thought.

Too late for that now, he sighed. Rhys couldn't waste anymore time, he needed to finish his project and get Henderson's job. Show Vasquez's creepy face he could spread all the gossip he wanted, Rhys was still better than him.

He cracked his fingers, ready to code his ass off until foreseeable future. Rhys was glad Moxxi hadn't contacted him about new sessions yet, or he would explode himself to avoid the exhaustion.

Vaughn and Yvette were nice enough to drop by with lunch, Rhys nibbled the food, enjoying the floor's sudden calmness. He was switching between actual work and the new security protocols, so focused he took a minute to notice his buzzing cellphone.

Rhys frowned at the Private Number on the top, but accepted.

“Jesus, kid, finally! Thought you'd keep me waiting all day.”

“Jack?” Rhys leaned back on his chair, eyes wide.

“No, the tooth fairy.”

“How do you have my number?”

“Told ya, I'm the tooth fairy,” he snickered, “Also I have access to all your personal records. Speaking of them, pumpkin, your profile picture is _gold_. I can't believe you used to have bangs.”

Rhys smiled to himself, feeling more charmed than bothered about Jack invading his files.

“You could've asked me for it, you know.”

“Rhysie, what's the fun in having unlimited power if I can't use it for useless stuff sometimes?”

“You don't have unlimited power,” Rhys couldn't help but doubt his own words. Specially at Jack's joyful sound.

“Anyway, I don't think anybody ever got me a coffee so wrong before. Congrats, kitten, making crap that bitter needs dedication.”

Rhys was glad they were talking over the phone when he flinched, “Y-you didn't like it? Sorry, I always thought-”

“That the bad boss took it black as his soul?” his amusement was palpable, “I'm touched. But next time make it more sugar and less actual coffee.”

“Well, next time order more of those strawberry filled and I'll think about it.”

There was a beat of silence, “What the hell are you talking about, princess?”

Rhys frowned, sure Jack was messing with him again, “The donuts. On my desk. You know, with Angel's drawing.”

Jack huffed over the line, “Not ringing any bells.”

“So it wasn't you?”

“I think I would remember doing that,” his answer was gruff, short.

“Oh,” Rhys tried not sound disappointed, suddenly wishing he had shared the sweets. And feeling very damn stupid for that coffee.

Jesus, after their talk Jack must think he was desperate, running after him.

“Plus it's pretty freaking obvious _cupcakes_ are better than donuts,” Jack continued, sounding more like himself.

Rhys risked a small smile, “It's pretty obvious you are wrong.”

“Listen, Rhysie, I'm raising a small girl. I know my sweets alright, I know my cupcakes. You better step down before I make you cry.

As they engaged a long, heated discussion about cupcakes and donuts, Rhys got better. The conversation with Jack flowed naturally, as if nothing weird ever happened between them. And Rhys was more than willing to pretend so.

Befriending Handsome Jack was definitely not a better idea than having sex with him, but every time Rhys chuckled on the phone he cared less and less. Hearing one of the scariest men on the planet defending with claws and teeth blueberry cupcakes was, without a doubt, one of the best things he ever witnessed.

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, “I'll admit that _maybe_ cupcakes are not that bad. 'Maybe' because I hadn't even heard most of the flavors you are talking about.”

“Why do I even waste my breath with you?” Jack groaned, “Seriously, you have no life, pumpkin. No, worse, you do, but it's a sad, cupcakeless one.”

“I got your point already, Jack,” Rhys rolled his eyes, “By the way, how did you even know the coffee was mine?”

“Timothy burst into my office babbling about a pretty, long legged guy with a weird name. So, I'unno, lucky guess.”

“Oh, yeah, I met your... twin. Gotta say, it was a surprise.”

Jack snorted, “I know... The world is too small for two people that hot. I know I'm better looking, but _still_.”

Rhys giggled, “Timothy is way nicer than you.”

“I never said anything about being nice, kitten.”

Rhys wanted to ask if Jack had any more surprise relatives up his sleeve, but then he spun the chair and his eyes fell on the clock. Lunch was almost over.

“Shit. I gotta go, Jack.”

“It's break time,” he replied flatly.

“Yeah, but I'm using it to work on a side project,” Rhys answered, already returning to said project, “And I kind of got distracted.”

“I have this effect on people,” Jack's smirk was audible, “What you working on, Rhysie? Rocket launchers? Awesome grenades? Super new cybernetics?”

“What- No?” Rhys wished the man could see the look he was giving the computer, “If everything goes right, you'll end up knowing in a few months.”

“Keeping secrets from your boss? You are so boring, come on, Rhysie,” Jack whined, “Bet it's going to be super lame then, some crap like a loaderbot that helps old ladies cross the street. A coffee machine that is also a secretary. Huh. That's- that's not a bad idea though.”

Rhys bit his lip, “Bye, Jack. And, ah, tell Angel I loved the drawing.”

“Is that it? I totally hit jackpot, didn't I? You are going to make me one in yellow.”

“ _Bye._ ”

Against all his urges, Rhys ended the call. He was more than a little annoyed he couldn't save Jack's number.

  
  


Next morning he was greeted by Vasquez sniggering at the box of cupcakes next to his computer. That time there was a note:

_Eat it and be less miserable, dumbass_

_\- HJ_

He kept it. Pushing down all confusion and doubt that threatened to swallow him, Rhys kept it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick, short chapter for you darlings cuz I noticed I forgot to post for a week, whaaaat?? If you all want I can post another one today, with some drama since you all seem to love it


	11. Project

Those were very, very long two weeks. The type made of caffeine, sleepless nights and pure spite. Rhys stayed on the office after work basically every day, leaving when the janitors were ready to kick his ass. The only good side was Jack calling during lunch, affirming he was bored.

Jack would talk endlessly, Rhys half listening and smiling while he worked on his project.

There were no such happiness on his weekend though. While the Skag Dipshits left to get hammered, Rhys was abandoned on the empty apartment. Two entire days wearing pajamas, eating left over Chinese and rummaging through miles of code.

Reminded him of college.

To make matters worse, Moxxi booked a new session and warned him with two days of advance. She wasn't very happy with the tons of makeup they had to use to cover Rhys' tiredness, but he couldn't find in himself to care.

It was the first time he didn't have fun during a photoshoot. Fighting to stay both focused and awake, there wasn't an ounce of pride when they finished earlier than usual. Those weren't his best photos either, but Rhys could live with that.

He was ready to cry when Thursday afternoon came and he typed the last security protocol. In the morning, it would be beautiful, but right now Rhys would rather rip his own head off. Head which was throbbing painfully around his eyes.

Rhys pulled his coat tighter around him, inserting the flash drive and initiating the transference. It was over, thank fucking God. Now he just needed to put a presentation together for the meeting with Henderson on Monday. Which could wait until after sleep. He missed sleep.

He decided to stretch his legs and grab something with enough caffeine to carry him through until work day was done. Plus, it was freezing on his floor out of nowhere. Some jerk must have messed with the central air conditioning again.

The world was a little fuzzy, slower, which only proved he was more tired than expected. Rhys was definitely going to slack off a little, and if Vasquez decided to point fingers there would be blood.

He also blamed on the fatigue how he didn't see a small figure running towards him until said figure hit his legs. Rhys almost fell back, needing to stabilize himself before looking down to see Angel hugging him. He tried his best to return her radiant smile, he really did.

“Hey there,” he croaked, “Warn a guy next time.”

“I called you!”

“That she did, kid. I'm sure the whole building heard it but you.”

Rhys needed a moment to process what he was seeing, wondering if the sleep deprivation was really fucking with him on another level. There were two Jacks standing there. Which, great he was hallucinating now. Except he was mostly certain both images were supposed to be identical. And those Jacks weren't, at all.

Oh, yeah. His mind finally supplied: Jack has a brother, dumbass. Timothy. Yeah, totally. He sort of forgot that.

Apparently his thoughtful silence stretched for too long, because now both twins were frowning. They frowned differently too. It was amazing how side by side it was way easier to know who was who.

For example, Rhys knew it was Jack snapping his fingers at him, “Earth to Rhys. Something left on that empty pan of yours?”

“Sorry. Yes, I'm just kinda tired. And distracted. What were you saying?”

Timothy nudged his brother, “Jack, he is not looking very well.”

“I gotta agree with Tim Tams here, you look like shit, kiddo.”

“Maybe he is sick,” quipped Angel.

“I'm not sick,” Rhys protested, his traitorous body making him sneeze right after.

He could definitely see their familiarity when all three gave him an unimpressed look.

“Really. It's just really cold here today,” he tried to sound nonchalant, “Probably triggered some allergy thing-y. I guess. Maybe.”

Jack put a hand on his forehead and it was so comfortable Rhys wanted nothing more than lean into it.

“Jesus, kid, you are a frigging volcano.”

“I'm fine,” he insisted.

“A little girl almost knocked you over,” Timothy commented.

Rhys felt a little betrayed, he expected the twin to be on his side.

“Come on, pumpkin, I'll get you home,” Jack shushed Rhys when he opened his mouth again, ready to fight, “I'm not asking. If you stay here the entire place will be contaminated in a day and guess who can't make me money? Zombies. Zombies don't make money, Rhys. So shut your trap and let's go.”

Rhys sighed. Discussing with Jack would get him nowhere and he was not opposed to going to bed earlier.

“Can you take Angel home for me, carbon copy?” Jack asked.

Timothy grabbed the girl's shoulders fondly, “I get the little monkey. Go have fun.”

He spared Tim and Angel a last, regretful wave but let himself be led by Jack.

“I need to stop by my office first, grab my stuff.”

Rhys didn't blink when Jack pressed his floor's button without a word. The CEO waited for him outside the cubicle and Rhys tried to be quick. It was hard, but even in his sick hazed mind Rhys didn't take long to notice there was something wrong.

When he went to retrieve the flash drive, he saw the new window blinking on his computer. It hit him like a punch on the stomach.

_724 items successfully deleted_

Cold sweat ran down his neck as he closed it and decided to check his project's folder, not wanting to assume the worst.

“No,” Rhys muttered under his breath, it was empty, “No, no no no no...”

He searched everywhere, trying to find at least a scrap of what he had created. There was absolutely nothing left, the flash drive wiped clean too. Two weeks of mind numbing work gone.

“ _Fuck!_ ”

“Hey, Rhysie, what's the- Rhys?”

Rhys ran a hand over his face, frustration boiling his blood to the point where all he wanted was to cry. Or kick something. Specifically Vasquez face because he knew it was the son of a bitch's fault. It had his fingerprints all over it. But his body was sluggish and he was so damn tired. Just imagining redoing all his project from zero in such a short time made him nauseous.

“Rhys, you okay?”

Jack grabbed his shoulder and Rhys shook his head, throat tight. He tried to walk but swayed- no, the world swayed, and Rhys needed to anchor himself on the nearest wall. His headache was pounding.

“I'm-” His voice was weird, distant “I'm not so great.”

Was all he managed before he fell forward. Rhys remembered hitting something solid, but soft, maybe someone calling his name, but after that there was only darkness and he was finally resting.  
  


 

* * *

 

 

Jack was a single father, he knew how to deal with sickness. He was used to coddling Angel and getting worried when she was feeling down the weather. But having to carry Rhys unconscious body was different than everything he experienced.

He hesitated on the car, wondering if maybe he should take the young man to the hospital. But they ended up on his apartment – Jack having to juggle Rhys while trying to find the keys on his pockets and hissing at anybody who looked the wrong way.

Rhys was shivering, a thin sheet of sweat on his forehead, but still knocked out cold. Jack put him on what he thought was his bed – assuming from the ugly clothes on the closet – and left to wander around the place. His eyes halted on the front door, the memory of Rhys moaning around him still too recent, before he forced himself to move to the kitchen.

Jack was not surprised to see those piss poor excuses for food Rhys had. There was more old take out than bread or eggs for fuck's sake. He took that as a personal offense and started to work.

There was a huge pot brewing soup when he decided to check on Rhys again. A good choice by the way the kid was mumbling to himself and twisting on the covers. The pitiful sight made something uncomfortably tighten inside Jack.

“Can you stop trashing for a sec and try to relax, man?”

Jack had to focus to hear Rhys' feeble, “Hot.”

“Yeah, genius, that's why they call it a fever,” he reached to his face, not happy when his suspicions were confirmed, “And you have a mean one, kiddo.”

“Too hot,” Rhys' whimpers were making Jack more agitated than he'd like to admit.

“Okay, get up,” he pulled the blankets away, ending Rhys' miserable, losing fight against them, “Up, lazy ass. You need a bath to cool down. I'm not going with you and your roomie isn't here, so move.”

Jack would have no complains on helping, actually. But it was not the time for that.

He lifted Rhys' by the armpits, still surprised by how light the kid managed to be while so tall and with a metal limb. A metal- Fuck. He sighed.

“Rhysie, I need to take off your arm,” Jack tried to get his attention. Rhys was fighting hard to keep his eyes open and didn't look very pleased with his demands. Tough shit. “You got me?”

After a minute he nodded, words sinking in, “A'ight.”

Jack thanked whatever deity still hadn't gave up on him that was responsible for making Rhys wear one of his one sleeved shirts. He was so not in the mood to deal with whatever mess he was in with that kid.

Jack made a quick work of unclasping his arm and Rhys sighed in relief, closing his eyes again.

“Oh, no, kitten,” Jack gently slapped his cheek and was rewarded by what had to be the most watery, weak death glare, “I don't know where you keep your crap, you on your own now. _Move_.”

Rhys stumbled his way to the bathroom, supporting himself on the walls sometimes, but he arrived, door closing and shower opening not far after. Leaving Jack half – okay, fully – worried about him slipping without his arm or something.

Jack really hated being worried for that guy. He already had enough on his hands without another clumsy, doe eyed kid pushing his way into it.

He busied himself finishing the soup and creating a nest of blankets on the couch. From time to time he would shot a look to the bathroom door, waiting for the bang of a disaster. Until he decided Rhys was taking too long.

“Did you die in there, kitten?” Jack knocked, “Cuz lemme tell you, pretty shitty way to go. I wouldn't mind dying stark naked, but, pff, I'm me.”

He was fairly sure he heard a groan from inside, good enough.

Rhys came out looking slightly better, at least fully awake. He even tried to brush his hair back, to Jack's amusement, no wonder he was having fun being a model. Still, his shoulders were hunched when he fell on the blankets, not even questioning how that end up there. Jack sat by his side, handing him a bowl of soup.

For the ninth time since he encountered the kid at the cafeteria, Jack told himself he was only doing all of this because sick employees were useless to him.

“It's none of that canned crap you have,” he said at Rhys' confused eyes, “Go on, you'll thank me later.”

Rhys' whole face light up when he tried a spoonful, wasting no time before attacking the bowl.

“I didn't know soup could be this good,” he said, voice a little nasal.

Jack grinned, opening his arms to the praises, “I know, I know, I'm perfect. You can keep 'em coming.”

Rhys gave him a funny look, but didn't smile. Actually, the kid was pretty down even for a bad flu. His fever was better, Jack had checked, but he kept that vacant, tired expression. Curled on himself and paying no mind to whatever was happening on television. It was slowly driving Jack insane.

“Okay, what's eating you, kiddo?”

Rhys startled, apparently distracted on his own thoughts. Jack was ready to argue with him, insist until the kid gave in and was honest. However Rhys gave a half shrug and looked at him.

“My project, the one I told you about, I finished it today.”

“...Alright? Why are you sulking then, isn't that good or-”

“Someone deleted it,” he interrupted with an uncharacteristic rudeness, “All of it, while I was away. It's- it's gone.”

Jack grit his teeth. Oh, he was going to have a busy day hunting down the bastard who made Rhys look like that.

“Don't tell me you didn't make a backup, kid. You ain't that stupid.”

Rhys winced, “Not... exactly. I was so busy and forgot, the only one I have is from the weekend. And it's not even half of the whole thing, I...” He rubbed his neck, “It would take a shit ton of time to finish it again, and I promised it to Henderson by Monday. But now I'm sick and-”

His breath hitched and Jack decided he had enough. He got up without another word, Rhys calling for him when he disappeared on his room.

“Jack, what...” he trailed off when the CEO returned to the couch with his laptop. It was such an old piece of crap, Jack made a mental note to make 'Hyperion' issue him a new one later.

“You'll keep moping until we get a head start, kitten. So why don't you tell me what was your super secret project about so you can shut up and rest?”

Rhys was gaping at him like a fish. Jack would flicker his forehead if he didn't suspect he had a killer headache going own.

“God, you are dumb,” he then explained slowly, as if he was talking to a very dumb small child “I'm offering you my help with whatever freaky thing you are building. It's a chance of a lifetime so you better think fast, sweetheart.”

“No,” Rhys protested, because of course he would make that hard “You are my boss. My boss' boss' boss. That's just- A lot of levels of wrong.”

Oh, fucking God, that guy. Jack bit his tongue to not say how he didn't seem to care about work ethics when his ass was being eaten into another week. Let it go, he told himself again, the words being repeated so much already they seemed to lose it's meaning.

“Deleting somebodies' shit doesn't sound a lot better for me, pumpkin, but suit yourself,” Jack raised his hands, “Even though I could definitely point out ways to make it better. And, totally trying to brag, I'm freakin' awesome at coding. Plus, you know, chance of a life time and everything, having the CEO check your work.”

Rhys bit his lip, frowning.

“Suit. Yourself,” Jack shrugged, turning his attention to the TV, fully aware of the silent struggle the kid was having with himself. Honestly, the faces he made were hilarious.

Rhys lasted about ten seconds before groaning, “It's a new security network for Helios,” he reached out and opened the project's file, “What? I know you have a private one but the rest it's not good. It... honestly, it sucks. It's trash.”

Jack glared at him, “Okay, hotshot, let's see your _amazing_ new plan.”

Which, he had to give it to the kid, was actually good. There were a few mistakes and places that could use improvement that Jack pointed out, but as a whole it was shockingly well made. Rhys sure knew what he was on about. He was more competent than most of the assholes Jack had to deal with daily.

He typed most of the codes, arguing with Rhys and questioning here and there. At some point they were hunched over the laptop together, shoulder to shoulder. It was comfortable, sometimes Jack missed coding, the more hands on part of the job – it was certainly better than spending hours on useless meetings.

They had done more than expected when Rhys started to get less responsive, quips becoming few and far between. Jack was turning to comment something but the words died on his mouth when he saw Rhys' head lolling forward, eyes closed.

“Enough work for a day, huh?” Jack mused, putting the laptop on the floor.

He should leave. Rhys wouldn't die in the two hours before his roommate arrived. Plus, Jack had daughter waiting for him.

But she had Timothy. And Rhys was finally looking peaceful for a change. None of that exhausted face Jack learned to hate.

Bad idea, he thought while leaning back on the couch. So bad. He found a comfortable position, back against the armrest and Rhys sprawled on top of him, head buried on his chest and blankets pooling around them.

Jack's mouth went dry, he couldn't force himself to look away. There were obvious dark bags around Rhys' eyes and he was, in overall, paler than usual. Yet his hair was falling on his forehead, making him look so much younger and Jack finally noticed how thick his lashes were without makeup.

His fingers moved on their own accord, brushing against a warm cheek.

Shit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, you guys were so sweet even with the last completely actionless chapter!!! I hope you all are having an amazing week, and, as always, [ hmu ](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/) if you wanna talk whenever


	12. Invitation

Rhys lived with a shorty, nerdy looking dude called Val or something who almost jumped on the ceiling when arrived and saw them cuddling. He looked at Jack like he was a ghost and dumbly nodded several times when it became heavily implied something bad would happen to him if he told anybody what he saw. Including Rhys.

Jack slapped his shoulder and left the small apartment. Not before giving him specific instructions to not let Rhys, the idiot, step into Helios until Monday.

It wasn't hard finding who had thought screwing Rhys over was a good idea. One search through security cameras later, Jack had his feet up his desk waiting, office door's opening to show Wattethead.

“Nah-ah,” Jack corrected when the man pulled a chair. His eyes were still glued to his ECHO, pages and pages of private and confidential information with Hugo Vasquez written on the top. Some pretty interesting files about shady money deals also popped up.

Oh, that was going to be _good._

He thought about firing the guy. Maybe shooting some non-important part of him or ripping those ridiculous implants. But Jack had greater plans. He was not one for waiting, but Rhys deserved it.

Wallethead was squirming like an insect under his thumb.

“Let's talk about your future in Hyperion, buddy.”

Jack spun a far fetched bullshit about how soon there would be changes in the corporate ladder. Changes with Vasquez on it. He talked whatever came into his head until Wallethead started to shift his weight and give longing glances to the chair in front of him. Jack talked until he started to get bored and sent the idiot away.

The dumbass went glowing. Oh, yeah, there would be change. Right after Rhys ripped that promotion from his inbred face he was getting kicked straight to their branch in Alaska. Jack was not even sure what Hyperion produced there, but he recalled there was something about fish. And if Vasquez's files were anything to go by, he was a little too allergic too it.

It was as petty as petty goes and he thought Rhys would appreciate it better.

Jack was, unfortunately, thinking about him way more than he'd like. It didn't get better at home, when he arrived only to have Angel jumping on him with a thousand questions about the beanpole's well being.

“She's been like that all day,” Timothy shrugged from his couch. Useless.

“I told you yesterday, sweetheart, he is _fine_ ,” Jack explained for the millionth time.

“He didn't _look_ fine,” she stomped her little foot, “And that was yesterday! What if he is worse now?”

Jack sighed, “Rhys is okay. Daddy even let him a pot full of his famous sick soup so he gets better soon.”

Tim turned to raise a brow at him, “You cooked for him?”

“It's just soup.”

His twin had a knowing, growing smirk, “ _Still,”_ Jack crossed his arms, “Aw, come on, Jack, it's- it's cute. He looks so nice, I'd make a move if you weren't-”

Tim faltered a little at the glare he received, “If I weren't what?”

“Got it,” he raised his hands in surrender, “You don't wanna talk about, let's not talk about it. I'm just sayin- Alright, okay. Shutting up now.”

“Remind me why you are here again?”

“You always ask for help with Angel's birthday,” Tim sounded offended. Good.

“So you came a week earlier to slum on my house and eat my food.”

“Pretty much.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Angel's loud gasp, clapping her hands with a new idea. Jack already dreaded it.

“I want Rhys on my party!”

He rubbed his face, ready to get on his knees and explain to his baby girl all the infinite reasons of Why That's a Terrible Idea. But she was quicker, waving her arms excitedly and looking from one adult to another.

“You said I could have whatever I wanted on my party and I want him,” she shot in one breath.

“I said that about stuff kid's like, sweetie,” Jack frowned “Like ponies and giant cakes with things inside that aren't strippers.”

Timothy made a face at him.

“And Rhys is a model!” Angel looked as if she found the biggest loophole in history.

“That's not, uh, not totally right, kid. It's a bit more...”

“Please, daddy,” she grabbed his hands, “Pleeeease, he is sick and cake always make everybody feel better. Right, Uncle Tim?”

“Don't drag me on this, monkey.”

Jack sighed, petting his daughter's hair, “It's better not, munchkin. You'll understand when you get older,” which is never the right thing to say to a kid.

Angel sobbed. She honest to God sobbed, eyes filling with tears quicker than should be possible. Jack froze, knowing he had fucked up real good.

“But nobody is coming to my party,” her whimper made him wince, “And now Rhys won't too.”

It was hard to know who was more alarmed, Jack or Timothy. He dropped down, gently holding her cheeks.

“Sweetheart, lots of people are coming. Wilhelm, Athena...”

“You pay them, it's not fair” Angel protested, crying openly now, “My- my friends aren't coming.”

Jack knew that wasn't exactly true, some of them would. But his daughter was a closed off kid, she had a hard time meeting new kids and that only got worse after changing schools – again. He was an asshole, but not to the point of trying to explain that to her face.

Someday, when she was sixteen or eighteen, Angel would understand all Jack ever did was for her own good. The bodyguards, the early home schooling, the changes... However she was still eight and upset.

“Come on, dude,” Tim mouthed to him.

Angel sniffed loudly.

“Okay,” Jack indulged, cleaning her tear streaked face with his sleeves, fully aware he would regret that sooner than later “We can invite Rhys. I'm not promising he will come.”

The last part was completely ignored by Angel, who had a smile the size of the world as if she hadn't been crying half a second sooner. She hugged Jack tightly with a happy little scream. Putting her to sleep after that would be a pain in the ass.

“Thankyouthankyou _thankyou_ , I love you, dad!”

“Yeah, love you too, munchkin,” he booped her nose.

Angel stormed away, grabbing something from the nearest table and giving to Jack. It was one of her invitations, all glittery ponies. It had Rhys name on the front in a messy, childish handwriting.

“You can visit to see if he is good and take it,” she swayed on the balls of her feet, “Tomorrow, cuz I remember you said you never go to anything people invite you less than a week before.”

Jack was left staring at the paper while she jumped to her room, still giggling.

“She's worse than you,” Timothy shook his head.

  
  


Jack was losing count of how many times he showed up on Rhys' home uninvited. And everything was apparently in the wrong order too, he was sure it shouldn't go: Sext – Fuck – Fight – Cuddle – Invite you to my daughter's birthday. Good thing Jack didn't care.

It was Rhys' roommate who opened the door.

“Hey, shorty,” Jack noticed he was shirtless and his eyebrows rose, “Woah, what the hell? You are giving gym rat a whole 'nother visual here. Gotta say, I've never been so uncomfortable and impressed in my life.”

“That makes both of us,” he muttered with a pained expression.

“That's cute. Real nice talking to ya, now, where's the giraffe?”

The guy didn't need to be told twice, he turned to scream over his shoulder:

“Rhys, Handsome Jack is here. Again. He- He is coming in, he came- Forget it, please hurry.”

Jack heard a 'shit' coming from Rhys' room and a loud bang. Five seconds later the kid popped from it, wearing nothing but a huge hoodie and boxers, showing those ridiculous long legs. The universe was testing Jack.

“Hey” Rhys tried to sound casual, but his hands were still fighting to keep his hair in place.

He looked better, still beaten but without the whole sluggish demeanor from before. There was even a faint flush on his cheekbones. Roomie shot him a look before going to his own room, obviously uncomfortable with Jack. Good choice.

“Good to know you still alive, pumpkin,” he grinned, “So, uh, what's the deal with your weirdly buff friend? I'm kinda bad – don't get me wrong, I'm super hot – but that definition is freaking me out.”

Rhys frowned, “Please, stop checking Vaughn out.”

“Kitten, it's not him I'm checking out,” Jack let his eyes roam the expense of his thighs and had to stop himself when Rhys cleaned his throat. Right, not fucking employees. “Anyway, you, ah, you good then? My soup did it's magic, didn't it?”

“I'm way better. Thanks to the meds.”

“Nah, Rhysie, it was the soup. I should start selling it, slap a Hyperion brand and go.”

Rhys couldn't help his smile, “Maybe it helped a little,” he fiddled with the edge of his hoodie, “Thanks for yesterday, Jack. If I keep going I will finish the network by Sunday morning, not a lot of time left but better than nothing.”

Jack waved him away, “Told ya, kiddo, you have potential. That was only the first time a jerk tried to take it away from you, it only gets worse. You gotta start having some cold blood, take 'em down before they get to you.”

Contrary to what he expected, Rhys wasn't appalled by that. He nodded, obviously not happy but resigned- no, determined. Jack really wanted to see the things he'd end up doing in a few years.

“Killing and backstabbing apart,” Jack reached into his pockets, because looking at Rhys too much makes him want to be stupid “It's Angel's birthday next Saturday. You better not have plans cuz you are canceling and coming.”

Rhys took the sparkly thing as if it was a time bomb. His eyes shot from Jack to the invitation, surely trying to put together how something with pink ponies could've come from his hands.

“She asked for you. Repeatedly. By name,” Jack huffed, “You can bring shorty too, just so you don't feel out of place in such a fancy party.”

“I have no idea if you are joking or not, but, yeah, of course I'm going” Rhys replied, a bit offended, “Should I bring something or...?”

Jack pinched his cheek, “Just your cute dumb face. Angel likes it.”

Rhys' scrunched his nose and swat his hand away, “Doesn't look like she's the only one.”

“You didn't seem to care when you were blushing like a virgin on my office,” Jack grabbed him by the hoodie absent minded.

“I didn't blush,” Rhys protested with a pout Jack wanted to bite.

“Oh, yeah? Like you aren't blushing now?”

Every detail of Rhys' ECHO-eye was visible from that distance, circuits running on the blue iris like roots. Jack could feel a solid hipbone under the thick cotton and he moved his other hand to brush a sleeve up, just enough to show more of the smooth, chrome arm.

There was a dark pleasure in knowing that was his. He was the reason Rhys wore that. That no matter who he was clutching and holding it would be with Jack's arm.

Rhys' breath stuttered, but he didn't move. And Jack, Jack knew he was making a stupid decision, but he was right there, in boxers, hair messy and with that silly, anticipating face. Jack wouldn't like to let him down.

_I don't fuck employees anymore_ , he weakly repeated to himself.

But when there was no more distance between them his mind was a chorus of ' _finally_ '. Rhys' mouth was as soft as he remembered, even better without the faint taste of wine. Jack wanted to savor it so bad he forced himself to slow down, tracing his lips with a lazy tongue.

He could count in one hand the times he wanted to take a kiss slow. It scared the shit out of him.

Rhys' hands trailed up his neck, toying with the hair on his nape creating goosebumps. He gasped each time they broke the kiss just enough, eyes focused on Jack's mouth. It was a pretty picture. One he would gladly help to maintain. Then, Rhys was shoving him away.

“Rhysie, what the-” Jack groaned, trying to lean down again only to be denied once more.

“Wait,” Rhys straightened his back in an obvious attempt to look recomposed, which was a little hard when his lips were that pretty pink and wet, practically begging for Jack's full attention “No.”

That one word made him look up, more annoyed than confused.

“No?”

“No,” he repeated, eyes hard, “We need to talk first.”

Jack crossed his arms, not liking where that was going “Talk? I was planning to do stuff way better than talking, pumpkin.”

“I know, that's the problem! I...” Rhys took a deep breath “You always do this. Things start to get normal again and you just... _mess_ it.”

“So I'm messing it then? You telling me you didn't want it when you were sucking my tongue back there?” Jack could feel his anger rising.

“You mess it when you do this after saying on my face last time was a mistake,” Rhys snapped, “I don't know how to deal with you, Jack, at all. One time you are treating me like I'm your property, the other you are taking care of me when I'm sick. Then you act like I'm nothing, I- I don't know what game you are playing, but it needs to stop,” his hands were visibly shaking and he curled them, “You... don't _own_ me. So if you are going to fuck me then leave, I don't want it, Jack.”

Jack let out a dry laugh. In his mind, he told himself he was pissed because Rhys had the nerve to deny him and demand more, but deep down he knew that wasn't all and he needed to muffle that. Need to break whatever the fuck was growing inside him hard and fast, then salt the land to make sure it wouldn't come back.

“Oh, I'm sorry... Do you want me to hold your hand while we skip down the street? Feed you breakfast on bed, give back rubs?” He spat, the venom so thick it could drip on the floor, “Cuddle on the couch? Do you want a ring too, sweetcheeks? Flowers?”

Rhys stepped back as if slapped, “Screw you.”

Jack hated himself a lot at that moment, but he couldn't stop. His thoughts were scattered and he wanted to punch something so bad he roared, “Isn't that what you want?”

“What do _you_ want, Jack?!”

Jack knew Rhys stopped being his little pet project a long time ago. He knew he wanted to fuck the kid senseless. He knew he wanted to make sure nothing bad happens to him. He knew that Rhys passing out on his office had almost sent him in a frenzy. Jack was aware of what all of that meant. And he was not ready to admit it not even to himself.

He couldn't even overcome his fury to find another solution. Not being able to fix one of his fuck ups was beyond maddening.

Rhys, worse of all, waited. The programmer stared at him for so long, expecting something. The silence stretched and stretched, finally snapping with Rhys' sigh, his face falling.

“Just tell me something... Did you plan it? When you found out about the sexting thing... the lunch, the _arm,_ ” he clutched it, “Were you planning it? Were you toying with me or-”

“Now, that's gold. You think I needed to buy you to get into your pants?” Jack clapped his hands, a mirthless smirk plastered on him, “I have news for you, kiddo, there is a friggin' line to my bed, all for free. So sorry to break it, you are not that important, cupcake.”

Under all the anger, Jack wanted to hurt himself for the way Rhys closed his eyes for a moment. He had being a complete ass to most people he knew, the number of those who hated him only grew, it shouldn't bother him that Rhys would add to that list. Shouldn't make him feel like slamming his head on a wall.

“I'm kinda tired,” he breathed out, voice surprisingly stable “Can you leave?”

To everybody's surprise, Jack did.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't promise you things won't get worse, but at least at some time those two won't be totally miserable. At the same time. I know right??? Also, planning trips is hard and if you wanna see me complaining about my life or filling this story with extra long angst, [ come fight me ](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/)


	13. Birthday

Rhys was almost glad Vasquez tried to fuck him over. Besides the second model turning better than the first one, he had no free time to waste thinking about Jack. 'Almost' because the healthier Rhys got, the readier he became to kill the guy.

He had a smug smirk during the presentation, and Rhys was kind of disappointed it only faltered a little till the end of it. Made him think he was missing something very important. Rhys hated that. However he put all his fears aside when Henderson complimented his new plan. Enthusiastically.

The presentation was a success, with well answered questions and, quite frankly, pretty sweet power points – Vaughn helped with those. He was feelings better than he had in weeks and decided to enjoy every second of it.

“Assistant Vice Janitor Hugo,” Rhys hissed passing by the smug douche, “Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?”

Vasquez kept smiling at him, by far not as bothered as he should've been, “Nice try, buddy, for real, I'm impressed. But I don't think things will turn out like you imagine.”

“Lucky you cuz most of what I'm imagining is illegal.”

Rhys walked away, shooting daggers at Vasquez just to reenforce his point. He stopped on a halt though, when his first thought was not tell his friends about the meeting, but Jack.

He was seriously considering punching himself. With the metal arm just to be sure.

“Rhys,” Axton was coming to him, looking all over as if Rhys hadn't left him hanging on a club.

“Oh, hey”, was his meek answer, since he did left the guy hanging on a club and kind of forgot about him.

“I heard you fell sick last week,” Axton frowned, “Dude, what a luck. You okay now?”

Now the guy was still worried about him. Rhys really would punch himself later.

“I'm better, thanks,” he replied with a small smile.

“Awesome,” Axton returned it, “So, uh, now it's been a long time but things were a bit crazy around here and I couldn't check but- Did you like donuts or was that too weird?”

“It was _you_?” Rhys squeaked, “No- No it was not too weird. Or at all. Seriously I loved them, I didn't even share with my friends,” Stop talking, his brain pleaded, “I could eat them forever, like, woah.”

Rhys trailed off with an awkward laugh, still Axton only grinned wider at him. He didn't look put off by his weirdness at all and it never ceased to amaze Rhys.

“Can I get you a coffee?” he blurted out, “For... the donuts and for screwing things last time. If you are up to it, I mean.”

“Fuck yeah, I am. Don't need to be anything fancy though, so... What do you say we hit the cafeteria?”

Rhys looked around, but fuck it. He deserved some fun, try to forget Jack and all – specially with a hot guy. He bashfully agreed.

He was reminded all over again about how funny Axton was. He sure knew how to keep up a conversation and even though he was boisterous, it was not annoying. Rhys didn't need to pretend to laugh at his stories, and, honestly, his looks were the icing on the cake.

However, there was a constant, numb itch Rhys couldn't scratch off no matter how many good jokes. Axton had everything, he was checking a lot of boxes. But still he wasn't pressing any of Rhys' buttons. There was absolutely no chemistry between them and it was beyond infuriating.

His heart stopped for a moment when he met a pair of familiar heterochromatic eyes across the cafeteria. Jack had a sullen expression and Rhys wasn't sure how long they stared at each other before the CEO glared at Axton and turned away.

How shitty that it made Rhys' day better.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


“I really don't wanna go,” Vaughn whined.

“Yeah, bro, I got that from the other seven times,” Rhys paid no mind, trying on another blazer in front of the mirror, “Look, there is a very high chance Jack's kicking me out when he put his eyes on me. But I promised Angel, sort of, so, just, please, okay?”

“You want me to go so you don't get embarrassed alone.”

“Exactly,” he huffed in annoyance because all his clothes suddenly sucked.

Vaughn lifted his lazy head from the bed, “Why are you freaking out? It's a kid's party. What's she, like, seven?”

“Turning nine,” Rhys corrected, “And it's a kid's party made by Handsome Jack. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a jelly filled pool or an apple juice champagne tower.”

“Chocolate milk shots,” he added, eyes wide in thought, “Alright, I get your point. But look, it's _not_ going to be super fancy. Nobody would risk shit like a crystal chandelier with a bunch of children. By the way, put the blue cardigan, brings out your eye.”

“Thanks, bro.”

“Anytime.”

Vaughn was not completely wrong. It _looked_ like a child's birthday – there were colorful decorations everywhere, three tables full of sweets and an inflatable pink castle. But it was, all over, a Handsome Jack party with, yes, an alcohol-less champagne tower, a cake taller than Rhys and a statue of a pony that was very probably made of diamonds.

“Holy shiiiiit,” Vaughn whispered from the corner of his mouth. Though it was not clear if it was for the decorations of the sheer size of the mansion.

But it set Rhys off how... empty the place was. There were a handful of children running around, some obvious parents and other adults. He was expecting something of biblical proportions, with other CEOs perhaps, some actors too. However there were more performers and waiters than guests and it made him frown.

His bewilderment was short lived when Angel saw him from across the garden and ran to his direction. Like past week, she hugged his legs, but that time Rhys managed to not almost fall on his ass and just embrace her back.

“You came,” she beamed, “I knew you'd come! Dad told me to not wait for you but I knew it.”

“Of course I did, I wouldn't miss your party for nothing,” Rhys mocked offense, “Happy birthday, Angel,” he handed her the large package with a ribbon, it was so badly wrapped and he redid it three times before giving up he had to mask his shame.

The kid didn't seem to mind though, specially because it was ripped apart in seconds. She let out a small, little ecstatic cry and hugged the stuffed pony – Rhys made a guess by the invitation.

“I love it,” Angel beckoned him down and planted a kiss on his cheek, “Thank you, Rhys!”

Once more, he was left wondering how a lovely thing like her came from Jack. And also asking himself how was that party not filled to the brim. Angel was the kind of kid others would beg to befriend, the one parents are supposed to adore. If he was in talking terms with Jack, he would ask him about that. No matter if it was none of his business, in a month Rhys cared more about that little girl than he ever cared for most of his relatives.

He pat her dark hair lovingly, “Glad you liked it. And, oh, this is my friend and roommate Vaughn,” Rhys introduced him, who looked lost in a state between shock and drying from cuteness. Understandable, but at least he waved back.

Angel, unlike the shy kid she seemed to be when they met at the office, grinned cheerfully “Hi! You have a cool name too.”

“Not cool like Angel though,” Vaughn managed to joke with a strained voice. He looked about to have a short circuit.

As the child giggled Rhys made sure to elbow him in the ribs discretely. He was there to be his emotional support not the other way around. Vaughn needed to be one hundred percent for times like those:

“Stay here, I'll get my dad.”

“Ah, that's... not! Better not, he's probably busy,” Rhys chuckled nervously, “I'm not even staying for long.”

Angel frowned at him, “Why?”

“Adult... stuff. Taxes,” he grimaced. Angel kept staring at him, her lip starting to tremble ominously, making him Rhys feel like a monster, “...That can wait! They can wait, I'll try to stay for a little longer.”

She hugged the pony tighter, smiling at him before running to show it to her friends.

“Rhys I don't get it,” Vaughn finally breathed, “That was... Handsome Jack's daughter? The Handsome Jack? I don't- How did it- She's adopted right?”

“I don't think so, dude,” Rhys was just relieved the said man was nowhere in sight. He lied to himself, assuring that maybe he'd manage to go through the party without seeing him, “Let's check that champagne tower out,” he suggested, being the most secluded spot on the garden.

But, as it became clear an hour later, not as empty. Some adults had the same idea as Rhys and went to camp there, since it was that or drinking apple juice the whole afternoon. Moxxi, to his surprise, arrived and alongside Timothy introduced him to some other people. Angel's teacher Janey, her girlfriend Athena, and a royal looking woman named Aurelia – who Rhys had to fought the urge to call ma’am.

“I heard about you,” she eyed him up and down, “Moxxi showed me your pictures. I have to say, dear, you are different in person. Less tempting and more...” Aurelia swayed her champagne flute, searching for the words.

“Edible?” Moxxi supplied with a smirk.

Rhys wasn't even bugged by the comment anymore.

“I'd say soft,” Aurelia continued, “It's probably the cardigan.”

Rhys was trying to not be affronted but something must have showed up on his face by the way Tim whispered to him, “Don't worry, she's like that with everybody. Your clothes look good.”

It was disturbing how nice someone with Jack's face could be – Vaughn certainly was having a hard time processing it by the number of glasses he had emptied. Rhys was turning to thank him but was shut by the image of the actual Jack a few feet away from them.

He stifled a relieved sigh when the man didn't see him, instead going to the other direction to meet a new guest. The woman had, of all things, a cowboy hat and Rhys only had a second to wonder if she was some kind of entertainer for the party before she gave Jack a quick peck on the lips. The world muted and he couldn't tear his eyes away as he held her waist and guided her.

“Rhys, everything okay?” Tim's voice brought him back.

“Yeah,” Rhys took a very long gulp of his champagne, wishing it had alcohol, “Who is that?”

Tim followed his gaze, the woman was now hugging a very excited Angel. Jesus it only got worse.

“Is she, uh, Angel's mom?”

“What? God, no,” Tim chucked, “Angel's mom is way worse. That's Nisha, Jack's ex.”

“Oh,” Rhys tried to take another sip but his glass was dry like his mouth, “They don't look very... ex-y.”

“They are always like that, it's kind of their thing. Like Moxxi's well, you know.”

Jack laughed at something Nisha said and the hole inside Rhys deepened. He couldn't help but remember the stuff Jack said on his house.

“ _Oh, I'm sorry... Do you want me to hold your hand while we skip down the street? Feed you breakfast on bed, give back rubs? Cuddle on the couch? Do you want a ring too, sweetcheeks? Flowers?”_

The CEO didn't seem to mind closeness around Nisha, on the contrary, he was receiving it with quite literal open arms. God, Rhys was sure Jack hadn't looked that happy with him. Someone touched his arm.

“We can go if you want, bro,” Vaughn offered quietly.

“It's fine,” he croaked.

Tim glanced from him to his brother several times, comprehending but, thankfully, guiding the conversation in another direction. Rhys was relaxed until Nisha walked in, Jack trailing not far behind. Of course not, because they were glued by the fucking hip it seemed.

The man's eyes were pinned on him while he hugged her shoulders. Rhys held it.

“Kadam,” Moxxi greeted, extending her a full glass, when Nisha tried to grab it she retracted her hand a little, “Still up for later, sugar?”

Nisha licked her lips seductively, “Did I ever let you down, Mox?” Her face scrunched up when she tried the champagne, “Alcohol-less, seriously, Jack? You getting soft?”

“Last year you gave a bunch of kids your guns and tried to teach 'em how to shoot,” he replied.

“And I don't remember you tryin' to stop me,” she snapped back, “Actually, I do. But that was Tim.”

Timothy was cringing at the memories of that terrible day. Rhys, on the other side, was just trying to shrink on himself and not draw any attention when Moxxi winked at him, sneaking a hand around his hips. Oh, no.

“Nisha, meet Rhys, my new little star. He's been working _real_ hard under me.”

The woman finally noticed his presence and Rhys answered with a weak nod.

“You don't look like a model.”

“I'm not. It's... kind of a long story.”

“Those are the best type, darling,” Moxxi purred, “Jack over here choose him by finger, pampered him with a new arm and all.”

Nisha smirked, “Did you now, Jackie?”

Jackie. Rhys forced himself to look back at the CEO and he shrugged.

“Eh, more like put it on the random and hoped for the best.”

Rhys felt his lip twitch in anger. Random, the motherfucker. Moxxi came to the rescue though.

“I'll start putting every line up in random if it means I'll have this luck,” she rubbed his back slowly, “His work is not even out yet and Angel is crushing on him. Angel and that delicious guard I saw you with the other day. You have good taste, sugar.”

There was a deep satisfaction in watching Jack's jaw visibly tense. Rhys was going to owe Moxxi so much later.

“Will there be a party?” Nisha asked, “You always throw something with a new project.”

“Of course, who do you think I am?” Mox's eyes light up, “It's all set up.”

“What now?!” Rhys tried to look at Vaughn for help but his treacherous friend was talking with Janey and holding a plate full of finger food.

“It would be a surprise. I was going to tell you after a couple more photoshoots, but Nisha can't keep it in her pants.”

“You know it,” Nisha's grin at him was all canines, “Mox' parties are something else, you better not be a fucking light weight.”

“Oh, he is,” it was Jack who said that, “Coming from your house the other day saw the kid all wasted outside a club.”

Right, so Jack went to Nisha's house on the middle of the night. Good to know.

And now, as if it everything was fine between them, he was seriously trying to joke with him. Rhys wanted so much to slap Jack, ask him who he thought he was to keep acting like such an asshole. But he was, of course, Handsome Jack and Rhys felt at the same time powerful and like a stubborn child when he obviously ignored the CEO.

Jack was not a man used to being overlooked specially when he could do nothing about it. Rhys thought he would break the flute by how tight his fingers grasped it. Neither of them talked, wanting to see who would be the first to give in. It was, again, Moxxi who saved the day from a very embarrassing end.

“Rhys will manage himself. Specially if he brings the hot guard to take care of him, just to be sure. What's his name again, darling?”

“Axton,” she gave him an opening and Rhys was feeling so fucking petty he went for it, “Maybe I will. I'll ask him later when he comes over.”

It was such a naked lie, in a week he still hadn't had the courage to send Axton a text and they only talked briefly on the cafeteria. But it became worth it when a loud crack made them all jump back. Jack was looking down unimpressed at the broken pieces of glass, the champagne surely making the new cuts burn.

“Holy shit,” Rhys gasped.

“Damn, those things are weaker than Tim's backbone,” chuckled Jack as if he wasn't bleeding on the grass.

Tim made a noise of protest and Nisha, the only one not surprised, grabbed Jack's arm, “Let's get you cleaned up before Angel sees it.”

Rhys was not feeling like a winner as he watched their backs distance themselves.

“Relax, sugar,” Moxxi patted his shoulder, “You better know what you are signing for before jumping head on.”

The problem is that he already had.

“I'll be right back,” Rhys excused himself after a couple of minutes.

Nobody tried to stop him. Good, he needed some fresh air – which was hard to explain when you are on a very big garden. He managed to find his way on the mansion alone, reaching the street and sitting on the curb with a sigh.

And if he thought things were messy before he was about to have a surprise.

What set him off were the heavy footsteps crunching the grass, and he turned to see that giant of a man – Wilhelm – following Angel, who was still holding his pony. Despite it all, that made something warm up on his chest.

“Don't you have a party to be, birthday girl?” Rhys joked as she sat down besides him.

She mimicked his pose, scrunching up her face “I saw you leaving.”

“Not leaving, just... needed a time alone.”

“Are you still sick?”

“Don't worry, I'm fine,” he smiled at her, “I'll be right back, promise. Your friends must be waiting for you, why don't you go ahead?”

Angel shook her head, “Don't tell dad, but... I don't like them a lot,” she kicked a pebble, “They are just here cuz their parents are rich too.”

Rhys frowned, “I'm sure that's not true, Angel-”

“It's okay,” she resigned “All my nicer friend's parents are afraid of Wilhelm, so they don't visit. Sorry, Wilhelm.”

“No problem,” it was the first time Rhys' heard the bodyguard speak.

“Not trying to be rude, but...” he risked, “Is he with you all the time? Like at school too?”

Angel nodded and Rhys grimaced in sympathy. It was overkill on his opinion, but he could almost understand Jack's paranoia. He was one of the most powerful people in the world, and father of a little girl. She was not just an easy, but also big target. Still, just from that conversation Rhys could imagine how shielded her childhood was and it sucked.

“But it's better now,” Angel hurried to comment as if she was trying to remember herself of it, “I go out more, it's better than studying at home,” a tentative smile spread out, “I even went to the zoo with the class last week. On a bus, Rhys! There were-”

And as if to cut her happiness in half, that's when hell broke loose. First, Jack appeared.

“Wilhelm what-” he saw Rhys.

Then, so quick it could've been a light trick, something flashed on the nearby bushes. Except it flashed again and Rhys only had time to activate his ECHO-eye and see the obvious silhouette of a man crouching down before Jack snapped.

“Are you friggin' serious?”

He was fast, fishing the paparazzi out and smashing him against the nearest wall without so much as a moment of doubt. Rhys could see the tense muscles on Jack's arms and the blood tainting his bandages. He wouldn't be shocked if he killed that man right there.

“Dad, no,” Angel cried out after the initial scare, ready to run to him if two big hands weren't picking her up, “Wilhelm, let me go! Dad, stop it!”

“I'll deal with this,” Jack groaned, “Take her inside.”

“Stop it, please, dad, don't” she kept shrieking as the bodyguard carried her away. Rhys could do nothing but watch as Angel's face turned supplicant at him, eyes watering, “Do something!”

“Jack, come on now,” he tried, and was shocked that between his daughter's screams and the paparazzi’s pleads Jack actually heard him.

“Stay out of it,” he barked.

“You always ruins everything,” was the last thing Angel sobbed before Wilhelm dragged her inside the mansion.

Rhys was left staring at Jack's tense shoulders having no clue of what to do. He had never seen the man that mad before, and he was not new to Jack's fits of anger. Rhys approached him slowly, but the CEO's attention was not on him anymore.

“No matter how many nice warnings I give you bunch of rats,” He snarled on the shaking paparazzi’s face, “ _You never listen_. You just like to play with fire, don't you?”

“I-I'm sorry, sir, please-”

Jack slammed the man painfully on the wall again, “Do they pay you enough for this shit? Must be some sweet money to come here after all the times I asked, and asked again like a good guy to stay. The. Fuck. Away.”

“It... It won't happen again, sir, I-”

“You invade my freakin' house, on my girl's freakin' special day like a creep,” he chuckled darkly, “Oh, you bet your head it won't happen again. You say you are sorry, but champ, you aren't. Not yet.”

“Jack,” Rhys tried again before the CEO started to get really violent.

“Didn't I tell you to stay out of this shit?” he didn't even look on his direction.

“You did,” Rhys didn't touch him, didn't try to coach him physically away from the guy – he didn't trust Jack to not knock his teeth out at the moment, “But you- you gotta stop, Jack.”

The man ignored him, raising his fist with obvious intention.

“Jack, you scared Angel,” Rhys blurted out, it was the first thing to pop on his mind.

It worked, if the way his arm faltered was any indication.

“It's her birthday, I know you are pissed. I know this guy is disgusting, but you need to talk to her,” it was like trying to sooth a panther.

His words didn't fall on deaf ears. Jack didn't budge, however he stopped, clearly chewing Rhys' pleas over and over. After an eternity where he was reading himself to tackle the CEO, Jack moved. He snatched the paparazzi's camera away, throwing it on the ground and stomping with purpose until there was nothing salvageable left. Then, he reached for the man's phone, breaking it with the same fervor.

“I don't need to tell you what's going to happen if I see any pictures, do I?” He threatened, “Or if you or any of those other inbred fuckers come around my baby girl again. _Do I_?”

The paparazzi flinched, sweat shinning on his forehead, “No- No, no sir. I'll... I'll make sure they know, I promise.”

“I don't give a rat's ass about you,” Jack shoved the man away and he stumbled into the ground, “Get the fuck away before I change my mind.”

“Yes, yes, thank you, Mr. Handsome Jack, I'll-,” he hurried to get up, running away almost comically.

Rhys wanted to deflate in pure relief like a balloon.

“Jack...”

“You too.”

But he was cut short when Jack walked past him, face still thunderous.

“I don't wanna see you around again.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rhys' should've known his new job and the gossip would influence his actual work someday. It was all Henderson, calling him on his office and asking him to run some errands. He would've protested, vehemently, but he was still nose to nose with Vasquez for that promotion and he had two weeks until Henderson's retirement. Every move counted.

That's the short tale of how Rhys ended up, again, in front of Jack's doors wanting nothing more than to run away. He had a plan, he would give the papers to his secretary and leave, but the woman – Meg, it was Meg – glanced up at him and said:

“You can go in,” When Rhys didn't move she sighed, “Mr. Handsome Jack is waiting for those reports.”

Rhys wanted to say he didn't give a crap about what Mr. Handsome Jack was waiting for. He had just spent another entire weekend sulking on his couch because of the man. Vaughn, a true bro, let him talk his ear off about Jack, and even went to fetch Rhys ice cream. But finite hours of shit talking the CEO still didn't prepare him from opening those doors again.

He held his posture, determined to make it quick and as painless as it could be. Jack was hunched over his desk and for a blissful moment Rhys thought his entrance would go unnoticed. As always, he was wrong.

“The shit you want,” Jack's speech was slurred but loud enough.

Rhys considered just dropping the papers and pretending he saw nothing, until he got close enough to see an almost empty bottle of whiskey. Good, Rhys wanted to say, let the bastard suffer. Fuck him.

“Jack,” he called softly instead, because he was a failure as a human being.

The CEO finally looked at him, only to frown, “Of course it's you. Piss off, Rhys.”

“Are you uh... okay?”

“Peachy,” he took a long gulp from the bottle.

“I can see that. Why are you drinking,” Rhys checked his watch, “At four in the afternoon?”

“Cuz I'm the frigging boss and I do what I want.”

Rhys didn't need to be a genius to see Jack was not alright. And he kind of wanted to let him fester there. However – and that was something he would never forgive himself for – he cared for Jack. Despite everything, the hurt, the anger, he did. Deeply. It was horrible. So praying for his life, Rhys gently reached out and pried the bottle from his hands. Unexpectedly, Jack let him with only a grumpy groan.

“Right,” Rhys stood for a moment, trying to figure out what he should do. Call Timothy? Yeah, would be great if he had his number. Jack was a big guy, Rhys could certainly just leave, but... It didn't feel right.

He wandered around the huge office and returned with a glass of water.

“Here,” Jack accepted it but stayed put, “You, uh, you wanna talk about it?”

The – slightly drowsy – glare was enough answer. And any other time, Rhys' would've let it go and kept to himself. But that was the last drop.

“Okay, you know what fuck you,” he hissed, Jack raised an eyebrow at him, “Yeah, you. After all the shit you pulled on me I have the decency to worry about you and you act like a sour drunk?”

Jack fiddled with his cup, “You don't know what you talking about.”

“Enlighten me then,” Rhys tapped his boot on the floor.

He hesitated, just from his face Rhys knew he was going to suffer the next day, but he didn't care. Jack deserved that.

“Angel's out of town with her mom,” he finally admitted, voice not as boisterous as usual, “Woman's a grade A bitch. Keeps trying to get full guard, saying shit about me to the kid behind my back. And Angel's mad at me, for her party, and because we are moving again now that the paparazzi know. We have the apartment but damn she just... she loved that house,” he snorted, “And she'll come back hating me.”

“And?”

Jack looked at him, confused, “And what?”

“And what do you want me to say?” Rhys crossed his arms, “That you are a great dad? That she won't hate you? It doesn't matter. You- You are just so _selfish_ , Jack,” he couldn't control his mouth anymore, “You never open up, you push people away but expect them to be there when you need them- When you need _me_. I'm not great too but you don't see me drinking during work.”

The CEO was more alert, taken aback by his explosion. If he was sober, he would've probably snapped back, but he sat there, bewildered for a change.

Rhys' would've hated himself for making a discussion previously about Angel focus on him, but he had been bottling all that up for months and he felt like a dam about to break.

He covered his face, trying to control the burning on his eyes and all the emotions that were shamelessly playing there, “God,” Rhys' breath hitched, “I hate you so much. Sometimes I wonder if I had never installed that app if you would've paid any attention to me at all.”

Jack was quiet, his loudest sound being the chair rolling on the floor as he got up.

“Rhys-” He called, pulling the young man's arms from his face, “Cupcake, look at me.”

But Rhys could smell the whiskey on his breath and couldn't endure the glassy look on his eyes.

“You are drunk,” he released himself easily, wanting nothing more than to be in a reality where Jack actually came to him without any alcohol to aid, “Just call Angel. Fix your screw ups.”

Was that the third or forth time Rhys walked away from Jack? He was losing his count. He was losing count of how many times he let the man hurt him too. Rhys went home early, not giving Vasquez the satisfaction of seeing his state.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started posting this fic I was like "hell yeah I have most of if written already so I can write the end whitout worrying about taking too long" but guess what that's the last part I've wrote and I didn't do shit the whole time I posted the whole story lmao   
> [ I'll ](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/) try to work on it this week tho before I drown on a sea of birthday stuff and travel responsabilities, wish me luck darlings


	14. Elevator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to god it was still like July yesterday

There was a fucking box of cupcakes on his desk two days later. And the next. And the day after that. To his gossipers coworker's pleasure, Rhys threw them all in the trash without so much as a second thought.

Jack also called him numerous times. Rhys couldn't say he didn't feel a small power trip each time he rejected them. Any other time, he would be flattered by Jack's insistence, but if the man couldn't even get down from his throne and talk to him like a grown up it was his problem.

And then one night Moxxi emailed him about his next photoshoot. With Handsome Jack. Because life fucking hated him.

“I can't do this,” Rhys wheezed, “How the hell am I supposed to just- Just stroll in there and take pictures with- Oh, God...”

Yvette looked like she was physically restraining herself from slapping sense into him. But, in his defense, he had the full right to freak out.

“I don't get why you are so shocked,” she huffed, “Jack himself told us he would work with the model.”

“He didn't! Did... he?”

“Yes” Yvette insisted, “You'd heard it if you weren't too busy making heart eyes at him.”

“I wasn't making- Shut up.”

“Rhys,” Vaughn got his attention, “You don't need to panic, man. We saw your shots they are pretty good. You just go, do what they tell you and leave without a word and a fat paycheck.”

His insecurity must still be showing because Yvette sighed and grabbed his arms.

“You know what's the best way to relax? Shopping, Rhys, shopping. That's the fun part of capitalism. Now, let's get this,” she waved his credit card and how the hell did she get that, “And use this excessive sweet money you are keeping. So you can walk in that session showing that jackass what he is missing. Sounds good?”

“...yeah? Maybe?”

“Plus, I'm sorry, man, but you really need new clothes,” Vaughn glared at his vest.

Before Rhys could defend his totally acceptable wardrobe, Yvette was dragging him out of the apartment. In the end, he didn't have a lot of choice on their shopping spree. Since the whole model thing small liberties were being stripped away from him left and right, mostly he could take it... But in cases like Jack he just couldn't let the man have his way with him. He was clinging to those last scrapes of control.

Clinging like a fucking drowning man when he entered the studio.

“Sugar, you are early,” Moxxi stopped, smiling at him approvingly, “And cleaned up nicely too. Good, I was ready to push you into the dressing room.”

Rhys had to admit his new clothes were pretty great. He was apprehensive about glowing buttons for god's sake but Yvette made it work. Work really well. His bank account would be a little sad for a few days but it was worth it.

“You can go get ready. Prepare for a _really_ long day.”

The makeup was welcomed after so many sessions – Rhys sometimes missed it. But no matter how long it took, Jack managed to take longer. Nobody looked impressed when two hours passed by and there was no sign of the CEO, some people had even packed snacks.

The wait made it ten times worse.

Moxxi was just starting to tap her hill repeatedly when the doors were pushed open. Jack storming in with his usual cocky strut.

“Let's start the shitshow, you nerds,” Jack announced.

Times like these Rhys could understand Vaughn judging him. And _still_ his traitorous heart jumped at the sight of him. Jesus, he needed higher standards.

Jack gave him an obvious once over and Rhys turned his face away. Which is not very useful and super awkward when they sit the guy right next to you.

“Did a fashionista robber got all your clothes, pumpkin?” he whistled, “Cuz I gotta give it to you- you are looking _hot_ , Rhysie. Thumbs up to the loser friend who helped you out.”

“Thanks,” Rhys replied clipped, not dwelling on the last part.

He could feel Jack's mood shifting, good, “Did, ah, somethin' happened to your phone, cupcake? Do ya need a Hyperion issued that actually works?”

Rhys checked his nails, because he was that petty “No. It's working just fine.”

“Good to know,” the anger was almost bursting through the surface of each word.

“Jack,” Moxxi hissed.

“I'm going to let your monkeys screw my mask up in a sec, calm your titties,” Jack waved her off. He hesitated and Rhys did his best to look uninterested, yet he almost melted on the chair when Jack gave up and turned away.

It was beyond uncomfortable, after their discussion – if it could be called that – on his office Rhys was not angry anymore. Not exactly. He was just... hurt. And hurt sucked, hurt was harder to hide. So he was grabbing desperately at every last inch of resentment towards Jack and covering himself with it.

Having the man so close to him was testing his patience, he needed all his willpower to not look. However he heard while Jack snapped and made fun of every make up artist, threatening anyone who tried to touch his hair. There was also – even though he'd never admit – a lot of whining going on. Moxxi shot Rhys a look of 'I told you' before telling Jack to stay still for the fifth time, like a damn child.

It would've been entertaining if every minute near him wasn't torture.

Jack was – of course – the one who decided his make up was done, clapping the poor guy's shoulder so hard he winced and pushing him aside.

Still the actual photoshoot was hell on Earth. Moxxi explained what the ad was for – a Hyperion hosted charity party or something, Rhys was distracted – and they hit it off. Or tried. It was easy at first, the usual look there, chin up, smile more. Even Jack was behaving, posing with the confidence of someone too used to it. And oddly quiet.

Then, Moxxi decided they needed a photo together. As in, so close it was almost a prom photo- together.

Rhys could not understand how that could be possibly published anywhere, but the lesser he discussed the sooner it would end. And because he was that lucky, that was when Jack decided to break his hardly achieve concentration.

“Did I ever tell you how good you look all painted up?” he whispered near Rhys' ear, causing an unwelcome shiver.

“No,” his mouth was bitter, “But I remember something about never wanting to see me again.”

He didn't know from where he took the strength to confront his boss during a photoshoot, but Rhys was not feeling sorry. Jack tensed up behind him.

“Yeah, didn't mean it. You know, Rhysie.”

“I don't. Really don't.”

“Stop squirming,” Moxxi ordered, “And _smile._ ”

Rhys put his toothiest grin, it was so fake it hurt. For a while, he thought Jack would let the subject go and he could leave to feel bad at his own house. But soon enough he was talking again.

“Let's have dinner after this.”

This broke every thread of self control inside Rhys, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Moxxi sighed, “Jack stop bothering him.”

“What's the problem, pumpkin? I'm paying.”

“I- What? I don't care if you are paying!” Rhys was fuming, “What do you think you are doing here?”

Jack glared at him, “Fixing my screw ups like you said?”

Rhys turned completely to him then, ignoring the groans from the frustrated photographers, “No you are not. You are just ordering me around and using your money to fix stuff.”

“Oh, so now you don't like when I spend money on you?” he gave the chrome arm a pointed look.

“That's not the point!”

“ _What's_ the point?”

Rhys felt about to rip his own hair out, “The point is that you hurt me, douchebag, and you didn't even had the courage to come and talk to me!”

Jack's eyebrows were high and he said nothing. It sucked. It sucked and there was a whole team people witnessing Rhys acting like a teenager. It sucked and they saw him humiliate himself in front of a guy who was only interested in fucking him. A guy he was falling for.

“Okay,” Moxxi interrupted the tension, “I think we have enough footage for the ads. Why don't we all call the day earlier?”

Rhys didn't need to be told twice. He sprinted to the elevator, breath shortening and a lump rising on his throat. His eyes were already burning, he couldn't even pinpoint if it was the shame, anger or frustration that time. Maybe everything.

He was facing the wall when another person stepped behind him, he didn't need to see to know who it was. Jack grabbed his shoulder, trying to turn him but Rhys resisted. That was just the cherry on a cake of public humiliation that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

He heard an annoyed huff, a slap and suddenly the elevator was stopping.

“We are only leaving when you look at me, cupcake.”

Rhys wanted to scream, throw things at him for good measure. But he stayed up, neither of them saying a word. To Rhys' credit, he lasted about a whole minute before facing Jack.

“What do you want, asshole?” he snapped, which was not that useful when you are staring at the floor.

“Look at me, Rhys,” Jack held his chin until their eyes locked. Rhys put his meanest frown on, trying to mask his obviously tear filled ones, but Jack's face still softened. He hated it, “I'm sorry.”

That... he never expected to hear that from Handsome Jack. The shock was big, yet not near enough to satisfy Rhys.

“No,” he insisted, “You'll do it again. You'll-,” Rhys voice broke, “You are just toying with me. Stop it.”

Jack shook his head, scooting closer, “I'm not, Rhysie. I won't do it again, it's not like that with you,” He cradled Rhys' face and dried his cheeks with surprising gentleness, “I won't, Rhys. I'm sorry, kid.”

Then, as if to break anymore restraints Rhys was trying to secure, Jack kissed his cheek. It was unnervingly comforting, each peck stealing another sob from his throat. Rhys grabbed his wrists and let the tears run free.

“Why are you doing this?” he managed to ask, voice thick.

Rhys was ready to Jack give a useless answer. An 'I don't know' or something equally as empty so he could free himself and severe the rest of what was between them.

“I'm not gonna lie, I like you, kiddo,” Jack touched their foreheads, serious as he'd ever be, “A... Kind of too much to fuck and let it go,” he frowned, “It's shitty, I keep thinking about your dumb face all the time. And... Wanting to talk to you, and see you and ugh.”

Rhys couldn't deny the racing of his heart beat at that, but he held his ground, “If you are trying to be nice it's not really working.”

“Yeah, well, nice is not my type of thing.”

“I know,” he let out a sharp chuckle, “You don't do flowers, and rings and cuddling. Or – what was that – holding hands on the street, right?”

Jack flinched, “Not... my best moment,” Rhys wanted to reply there weren't a lot of those, but he was faster, “Look, I-” he sighed, “I don't work well with relationships, kid. Every one of them ended with at least a busted lip and someone destroying something expensive.”

“Doesn't seem the case with Nisha,” came the mumble.

“Nisha is different,” Rhys lowered his shoulders, “Not like _that._ There's stuff about me you don't know, cupcake, stuff she gets. Despite some, uh, occasional fun, there's nothing left between us.”

“Please don't tell me you followed me to rub on my face whatever this is,” he pleaded, closing his eyes.

“Can you let me friggin' talk for a change?” Jack huffed, still not letting go of his cheeks “I care about your stupid, pretty face and it drives me mad. What I'm trying to say is- I wanna try something with you. I'm not sure what, but... I wanna try to not screw it up this time. If you want to, cupcake.”

Looking into Jack's eyes was almost physically painful. Rhys had seem a lot there before, from blind rage to deep amusement, but the raw sincerity there was threatening to swallow him. He couldn't look away, on the other hand bear that gaze was killing him.

“I'm sorry,” Jack said for the third time that day, “I'll keep repeating this crap how many times you want. I'll get sick fast thought, but guess I deserve it.”

“Yeah, you do,” Rhys sobbed, tears stopping “Say it again.”

“I'm _sorry._ ”

“Again.”

Jack rolled his eyes, “I'm sorry, kitten.”

The space between them was negative by then, and Rhys knew he was probably a sigh to behold from that proximity: face puffy and red, eyes wet and makeup smeared everywhere without a doubt. Still, Jack held him like a lifeline and Rhys wished he'd never let go again.

“Go on,” he muttered against his lips.

“I'm very, very sorry, cupcake,” Jack obliged, sealing their mouths.

The kiss was salty with tears and brief, and it still made Rhys float.

“So sorry,” Jack whispered between pecks, each longer than the last, “Sorry, Rhysie.”

They stayed there until their lips' flavor intermingled and Rhys could feel his face drying up. There was a heaviness that came after crying settling on his shoulders, and the calm, content kisses Jack was giving him didn't help. The growing warmth blossoming on his chest made him wish they could stay there forever.

But of course, it had to end.

“Hope you enjoyed the power trip, kitten, cuz it's never happening again,” Jack announced.

“So don't screw up again.”

“Gotcha,” he buried his face on Rhys' neck, “Is this a 'yes' to dinner or-?”

Rhys chuckled, “I don't know. I'm a mess right now, and kinda tired.”

He almost whined when Jack straightened himself, untangling them. He hummed, “What do you say we take this back to my house then? I can finally show you what real food tastes like – that soup was only the beginning, pumpkin.”

The idea was so inviting Rhys bit his lip, pretending to think about it and then nodding, “Guess it's worth a shot. We can always order pizza too.”

Jack groaned, getting his phone out to call whoever could restart the elevator, “Why do I like _you?_ ”

Rhys' stupid smile was as big as the pang of affection he felt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what the fuck is 2016's problem, but IT'S ALMOST OVER??? LIKE HOLY SHIT?? I hope you all are still doing fine, [ come hit me up ](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/)


	15. Sleepover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW WARNING AW YISS

Jack's penthouse was as impressive as his office and mansion; Big, modern and with a view to the whole city.

“You moved fast,” Rhys frowned, noticing a lack of boxes and the immaculate decoration.

“What- Oh,” Jack snorted, “This place isn't new, kiddo. Did you really think I only have a single house here?”

Rhys rolled his eyes, “Sorry for forgetting you are not a normal person.”

“Damn right, I'm not,” Jack slapped his ass, making him yelp and glare, “Now stop gaping and go be pretty on my couch while I make the best dinner of your sad life.”

He walked to the open kitchen, opening the cabinets fluidly with familiarity. Rhys would be lying if he said he wasn't a little apprehensive about eating something made by Jack, still he wouldn't dare say it out loud.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to fix his face – and god bless waterproof makeup – Rhys was left to, as Jack had put it, look pretty on his couch. It was such a damn good couch he could feel the day weight lazily on his bones. Also it had those huge fluffy pillows where you can _sink_. God bless rich people.

Unfortunately, soon enough there was a delicious smell invading the living room and Rhys' growling stomach convinced him to go check it. Jack stood in front of a fancy stove artfully taking care of a couple of pans and pots. There was a relaxed line on his shoulders and a lack of hurry that wasn't usually there. The urge to run a finger down his spine was tantalizing.

It was... weird, seeing Jack on what should be his daily routine. Each time Rhys thought he had figured him out, the CEO showed another side of himself – on purpose or not. Each time, it reeled him deeper.

“You need some help?” Rhys approached him, trying to ignore the terribly delicious sting on his heart.

“From you? Nope. Something tells me you can burn milk,” Jack snickered at his affronted face, “It's almost done anyway.”

“You are doing... pasta? Really?”

He raised an eyebrow, “What's with the pout, waiting for something fancy? Lobsters and caviar?” Rhys shrugged, “Damn, kid, and I haven't even started to spoil you yet.”

That earned him a smirk, “Oh, you are going to spoil me?”

Jack returned it, “Rotten. Now stop babbling and grab the oldest wine you can find and some glasses.”

Rhys kept his comments to himself when he opened the fridge and saw a number of Sponge Bob juice boxes and kid's snacks. It was oddly cute. He wondered how the spacious penthouse must be with Angel running around, no wonder Jack didn't like when she was away.

Soon, they were sitting on the glass dinning table. Jack put a plate full of steaming spaghetti and steak in front of him with a flourish.

“Ta-da. This will destroy you to any other food” he sat across from him, “Come on, dig in.”

Rhys didn't need to be told twice, he was salivating. Jack watched him as he – still a bit wary – bit on the fork. He was not expecting the explosion of flavor on his mouth and reacted to it with a surprised sound. Jack's grin was huge and Rhys knew he was boasting the man's already inflated ego but it was truly delicious.

“This is good, like, really good,” he commented, scooping more with the cutlery, pretending he wasn't doing his best to not look like a klutz “I didn't even know homemade food could be so tasty.”

“You know, that's not a lot coming from a guy who lives from old Chinese.”

Rhys glared at him, “I'll never compliment you again then.”

“Awn, pumpkin,” Jack opened his arms, “We both know that's impossible.”

The dinner was better than great. Rhys serving himself a second portion and ignoring Jack's jabs. In general the man was... nicer than usual. Rhys was not accustomed to that. Specially since Jack himself made sure to state how much of a not nice person he was. As they sat down on the couch to watch whatever was going on television, he was still waiting for the rug to be pulled from under his feet. Of course, Jack noticed.

“Hey,” he put an arm over Rhys' tense shoulders, “You thinking so loud I can't hear the TV.”

“My bad, I'll try to think quietly next time.”

“It's fine, shit's boring anyway,” Jack turned to him, “Gonna tell me what's going over that pretty head of yours?”

Rhys would not. There was no way in hell he would voice all his insecurities and trust issues about the man. There was no way he would let Jack know about the power he had over him. But still, Rhys had plenty of questions.

“You never told me when you figured out you were sex- Talking with me, on that app.”

Jack's eyes glinted, “Hm... lemme see? I don't know, cupcake, probably when you sent me that beautiful pic fingering yourself with your shining new hand.”

The matter of fact way he said that had Rhys sputtering. The asshole used his distraction to pick his cellphone and thrust it on his face, said picture displayed in all it's glory. Rhys let out a very embarrassing squeak he would deny to his grave and pushed the thing away as if it would make him forget he ever sent that to someone. Couldn't a day pass without him regretting his life choices?

“Wh-Why do you still have that?”

“You kidding?” As usual, there was no trace of shame in Jack, only deep, annoying, amusement, “That's a masterpiece, Rhysie. The Mona Lisa of nudes. You don't just delete Mona Lisa, do you? Even though I gotta say, I can't see what's the big freaking deal about her, I mean, she is not even hot-”

“Did you send it to someone?”

“Of course not,” Jack snapped, “What kind of jerk do you think I am?”

“Well-”

“Yeah, I know, I see where you are coming from but _come on_. I'm not that type of jerk.”

Rhys lowered his eyes, hating the way he had managed to screw the moment up so quickly, “Sorry.”

Asking Jack, the guy with serious privacy issues, if he had violated his... Way to go on the first/second date, Rhys. Before he could spiral down into another well of self doubt, a warm hand inclined his head up and he was looking at those mismatched eyes once more.

“If that picture bothers you so much...” Jack was terribly close to his face, his accelerating heartbeat covering any television sounds, “Maybe you should show me a bit of the real deal. Who knows, if it's better I may even delete it.”

“No, you wont.”

“No, I wont.”

Rhys could feel Jack's warmth through the mask, burning his cheeks as their lips met. Kissing Jack was a whole new experience every time, he would never get tired of it. Electricity hummed on his veins at the sole knowledge of who was the person grabbing his neck. Rhys used it to push himself up until he was sitting on Jack's lap – who let out a pleased huff.

Appreciative hands roamed up his thighs, hips, sides... Rhys didn't know if it was the wine or the pure happiness of being there, but he felt Jack everywhere. And he wanted more.

He shivered as his shirt finally fell open and heated fingers traced his skin. Jack's mouth on his neck was the switch turning on goosebumps up his spine. Rhys was enthralled, he did nothing but watch with excitement and grab fistfuls of the man's coat. There would be marks later without a doubt, but he would worry about it when the bites weren't sucking his breath away.

Jack's eyes shot up. The pure, heavy desire pouring from them were enough to punch Rhys' words from his throat.

“Bedroom.”

He didn't know how Jack managed to hear him, or how his legs worked, or how he found enough will to raise from the couch, but all of those somehow happened and weren't important at all. What was important was his back hitting a large mattress and Jack crawling shirtless on top of him. It was unnerving, really, how easily his whole world could focus on one single person.

Rhys hoped – prayed – Jack had no idea of the power he had over him. But it must be painfully obvious, it had to be. Because Rhys feels stripped from more than just his clothes. Tangling his fingers on the brown curls Rhys brings Jack up into another heated kiss in a pitiful attempt of keeping his insides from spilling, his skin from boiling.

Suddenly the world spins and Rhys sees himself straddling Jack. The man gives him a lascivious smirk that doesn't match his eyes for a second.

“C'mon, kitten, I made you dinner... you pull your weight now.”

Sitting there felt so much more intimate than laying down, he should be burning with embarrassment. Yet as it was becoming more and more often with Jack, Rhys' throat dried with the wave of arousal that hit him. And even though he would still remember that night for years to come, the memories are clear and shuffled as a broken glass:

Jack's hands running up his back. Underwear disappearing on the floor. Jack's complaints when Rhys pulls his hairs and kiss his neck. Their erections rocking against each other lazily. Heavy warmth climbing his stomach. Fingers digging on his thighs. A gasp. A hoarse laugh. The pop of a bottle opening.

Rhys slowly opens himself with his fingers, its a little awkward on that position and the reach is poor, but its worth if he can see Jack's eyebrows crease, breathing heavier than before. Rhys has to put a hand on Jack's chest to stop the man from sitting up.

“ _I'm_ doing this now,” he says with a strength he didn't have.

Jack, for once, let's himself be led. He lays down with an expression that would've been surprised if it wasn't filled with lust. For once, the CEO is blissfully speechless. Which, of course, doesn't stop him from fighting back. Rhys shudders when Jack aligns his cock with the crease of his thigh and thrusts, so short of touching his own erection. So close of really fucking him.

It quickly escalates in a competition of who can endure more. Rhys knows he doesn't have Jack's stubbornness, however he is also tired of seeing the older man win and refuses to cum on his own fingers for the night. Then, never taking his eyes of Jack's, Rhys leans back. And back. Until he is laying on Jacks legs, spreading himself and giving a full view of his fingers.

He swears he could've come from the gasp he heard.

“Okay,” Jack agrees, stroking his legs, “Real thing? Way better. You know how to pitch a sale, sugar.”

Rhys smiles, “I'm not for sale.”

His cybernetic arm is pulled and he is sitting again, and he would've been face to face with Jack if he wasn't so busy kissing the metal, “Yeah, you've made that clear. Fuck. I love the way you look with this.” He chuckles, “It'll look damn better while you ride me though.”

The shard of memory of what happened next is lost, one moment they were there, the other Rhys is guiding Jack's cock inside of him. It's slick, tight and the pressure pushes the air out of his lungs. That moment, there are no fights, work or gossips, there is only that little pocket of time enveloping them. They rock with the insistence of impatience, and their breathy sounds seem to thicken the darkness.

Rhys doesn't know if he angles his head down to kiss Jack until it's too messy to be sensual, grabbing his neck, struggling to keep breathing... Or if he let it fall back, leaving room for Jack to bite his neck and whisper filthy nothings on his ear. All he knows is that it's good, so good he can ignore the ache on his legs and the shuffle when Jack drags them near the wall to use the leverage to thrust up.

“That's it, Rhysie, you doing great for me. God, that face makes me wanna push you down and fuck you into the mattress,” He sighs, “Not now, tonight it's your time to shine, princess. You are only stopping when I cum on your ass.”

With the new angle, Rhys' prostate has no mercy, the sounds escaping becoming more and more embarrassingly loud. He can't take that anymore. No matter how good it feels to have lava running through your veins or sparks dancing on your bones, the pleasure borders on pain. Basically bouncing on Jack's lap, Rhys lets go of his last thread of control and strokes himself. The dry friction combined with the other myriad of sensations sets him off fast, his orgasm may not be a surprise, but still travels his body in a violent shock.

It could've been a prayer that left his lips, or Jack's name, he doesn't care. He can't care while the older man keeps fucking him through his orgasm, making his highly sensitive body light up. Rhys takes it, adores it.

“Fuck. Rhys, that's it-” Jack shudders, his movements slowing down until he stops completely and finally allows himself to breathe again.

In Rhys' eyes, he never looked more handsome than then. Mask or not, the bliss and exhaustion is clear on his face, hair wet of sweat and eyes- Jack's looking at him that way again, with that gleam that is not arousal, or malice, yet it's not bad either. It's... warm and terribly deep. Rhys wants to drown in whatever that is. However, it's gone in a blink and he can't bring himself to care when Jack is rolling them around and kissing him just so.

“You still have a lot to work for,” Rhys murmurs.

“Good thing we have a lotta time.”

It's an amazing feeling, not to care. It's also amazing being with Jack, yet that was a thought for another time.

 

* * *

 

There was not a lot of sunlight in the bedroom, the curtains were too thick for that. Still, even in the dark Rhys could make out every detail from Jack's sleeping face. The high cheekbones, his eyelashes, the clasps of his mask and the way he looked completely different like that. With his whole guard down, without spitting crap every five seconds and the usual perfect hair curling everywhere, Jack was at least ten years younger.

Rhys refrained himself from tracing the seams of his mask since that definitely was not what he should be focusing on then. He should be freaking out he had fallen asleep after fucking Handsome Jack and was currently cuddling on the man's very, very comfortable bed. He may have said all those sweet things to Rhys and they may be in a sort of relationship now, but didn't mean Jack would be okay waking up with him just after their first/second date.

A shame. He was a real good cuddler.

Sighing, Rhys used all his will power to untangle himself from those strong arms and push away from the hot chest. His body had a delicious ache as he grabbed his clothes across the room and, he knew, a good deal of marks to match. Despite needing to do a walk of shame, it still had been a fantastic night. He smiled to Jack's sleeping figure before silently leaving the room.

According to his cellphone it was still early, so he probably wouldn't face anyone at the elevator.

If he had managed to go that far.

The moment Rhys opened the front door he was stopped short by a second wall. A living wall very similar to a person's chest.

He only had time to process that was Wilhelm standing there – glaring at him, which was unnecessary – before Angel dropped her little backpack and jumped on him.

“Rhys! Oh my god, oh my god, what are you doing here?”

He wasted no time in hugging her back, and in also shushing her as gently as possible. Rhys didn't trust Wilhelm to not break his legs if he as much as looked wrong at the girl – which he respected, but he liked his legs, Jack did too.

“We gotta keep it down, your dad is still sleeping, okay?”

“Did you have a sleepover? Without me?” she accused.

Wilhelm's glare was turning into a wide smirk in no time.

“Not- Uh, not... Not exactly. It was an adult sleepover, kid,” Rhys stammered, that was for sure the most intense walk of shame anyone ever had, “W-we worked. All night. You know, business, boring stuff.”

“You sure?” It was the security guard who spoke, “Cuz by the marks on you looks more like you two had a very cheery sleepover.”

Rhys covered his neck, cursing the man for deciding to get chatty right then, “That's mosquito bites.”

Angel inclined her head, knowing she was missing something but not getting what. A couple more years and would've been ten times worse.

“Sure,” Wilhelm shrugged one thick shoulder, “Alright, I'm hitting it. We see each other tomorrow, munchkin.”

“Wait!” Rhys shrieked while Angel waved happily by his side, “Where are you going?”

“Home,” he explained, walking away without a look back.

“You- you are just gonna leave Angel here with me?”

“Will that be a problem?” That shouldn't have sounded so much like a threat.

“No?”

“Then fix her some breakfast, I guess. Then fix your damn shirt,” Wilhelm muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like 'Jack likes them dumb now Jesus'.

Rhys didn't even have time to be offended, Wilhelm was gone into the elevator and he was left with a very awake nine years old. He couldn't just leave her alone after arriving, but he couldn't stay either. Oh God, Angel was smiling at him with those sparkly eyes... Oh, God.

“So... are you hungry?”

 

* * *

 

“Shit,” Jack sighed, rolling on the bed.

His very empty, still warm, bed. He was not much of a morning after guy, yet waking up to see no lanky code monkey by his side was kinda... disappointing. Jack couldn't even lie to himself he had expected some morning blowjobs, his first thoughts had been along the lines of hugging Rhys closer, inhaling the scent of his shampoo, planting fluttering kisses on the warm neck... Ugh. Feelings sucked.

Jack shrugged all that off him and put some pants on. He had a life besides Rhys, and it would _not_ revolve around the kid. There was work to be done, morons to fire, pancakes to eat and soon Wilhelm would be dropping Angel- Oh.

Jack rubbed his eyes once, twice and pinched himself too just to be sure he wasn't still sleeping. The Universe gotta be kidding him.

There stood what had to be the most inviting scene he ever saw in a long time: Rhys on crumpled clothes, head thrown back and sleeping like a dork with his mouth open, Angel was just as gone, resting a head on his lap and all curled up on herself. Some dumb cartoon playing on the TV. A warm, thick feeling spread through Jack's limbs that had nothing to do with a night of great sex.

Without thinking, he snapped a picture of them and turned the television off. He didn't save it as his background of some crap, that was way too cheesy for him, alright? But nobody would dare to say anything if he deleted the infamous picture of Rhys fingering himself. Not like he didn't have another ten of those to spare and copies saved on his ECHO – which, he quietly promised himself, he would delete later too.

At the moment, Jack was only interested in covering those two sleeping dummies with a blanket and playing some games on his tablet while sipping sugary coffee. He needed a bath and his face was sore from overusing the mask, but from time to time he would look up to the scene before him and decide enduring a little more wouldn't hurt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's this funny thing where I think I updated this like last week and I check and WELP OPS it's been a month, my bad. Also, Angel deserved better, so let her have a mild happy childhood on fanom 
> 
> thank you so much for all the comments, as always!!! anything, [ hit me up ](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/)


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